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99 


“And she never even looked at me! 


Page 14 







































































































































































NEXT'NIGHT 

jSTOgJESf 

By Clarence Johnson Messer, 



Lothrop, Lee L Shepard Co. 



Published, August, 1912 



COPYRIGHT, 1911 
BY 

Clarence Johnson Messer 


Copyright, 1912, by Lothrop, Lee & Shepard Co. 


Next-Night Stories 


Iftorwoofc ipress 

BERWICK & SMITH CO. 

NORWOOD, MASS. 

U. S. A. 



©Cl. A 31 9210 


A. 



To my friend 

WILLIAM FREDERIC ANDERSON 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

First Night.3 

The Proud and Foolish Peacock .... 9 

Second Night.25 

Tinklebell.28 

Third Night.55 

The Donkey and the Wolf.57 

Fourth Night.81 

The Fox, the Raccoon, and the Bear ... 83 

Fifth Night.101 

The Dwarfs.103 

Sixth Night.129 

The Frog Girl.131 

Seventh Night.149 

Granny Chipmunk’s Lesson.151 

Eighth Night.165 

The Horse and the Hen.166 

Ninth Night.187 

Dandy Beaver and Sippy Woodchuck . . 188 

Tenth Night.207 

Sambo and Jerry.208 

Eleventh Night.223 

The Bird of Prey.225 

Twelfth Night.249 

The Hen that Ran Away.251 
































LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 


“And she never even looked at me!” (Page 14) 
. Frontispiece V 

FACING PAGE 

The two bears backed into the darkness of the 

forest.34 z 

“WHO’S THAT OUT THERE?” .... 60 ^ 

“Here, boost me! I’m wrong side up!” . . . 96 ,/ 

“Do you leave your playthings for your mamma 

to pick up?”.138^ 

“Stealing! Stealing!” . . 152/ 

When Nosey saw Sippy he gave an awful howl 
and made for the woods.202'' 

“Well, you’re a sight!”.258^ 




















































NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


FIRST NIGHT 

Urr-A 0 get a bran’ new uncle without 
knowin’ anythin’ about it till you 
get him is s’prisin’; but to get one 
that’s lived with bears and animals where 
there’s no folks, and with gold mines, is tre- 
menjus.” 

That’s what Dorothy said, and she knows 
something. She is ten years old. 

“P’raps he’ll tell us stories ’bout ’em— 
’bout ammals,” Paul said. His big eyes 
were full of anticipation. 

“Say an-i-mals,” Dorothy’s lips looked as 
if she were making three bites at the word. 

“Am-mals.” Paul repeated his own way of 
saying it. “Anyway, p’raps he’ll tell us. I’ll 
ask him.” 

“Course he will,” cooed little Beth, who was 
eight, three years older than Paul. She had 
3 


4 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


a way of acting as Paul’s natural protector. 
No amount of ridicule from Dorothy could 
make her remember not to take Paul’s hand 
and lead him. 

“Maybe he tells talkin’-animal stories,” 
Weezy said. Weezy was six years old. Her 
name was Louisa, but there was an Auntie 
Lou, and two Lous would be “mixers,” so 
the little one was called “Weezy.” 

Dorothy, Weezy, and Beth were sisters. 
Paul was their cousin. Paul was staying with 
them this summer because his mamma was 
very sick, and his papa had taken her on a 
long sea voyage. When it had become known 
that Paul’s mamma must go away, Aunt 
Laura, who was the three little sisters’ 
mamma, begged that Paul come and live with 
them. 

“The climate in the south seas will be too 
warm for the little fellow,” she said. The 
doctor said so, too; so it was decided that Paul 
would go to his cousins’ house. 

At first Paul was very lonely in his new 
home. He wanted his papa most. He had 
not been much with his mamma because she 
had been sick for a long, long time; but Papa 
Tom, who was the girl-cousins’ papa, did just 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


5 


what Paul’s papa used to do. He told the lit¬ 
tle fellow stories at bedtime, and then the 
cousins kept him so busy in the daytime that 
after a while he was quite happy and con¬ 
tented. Only every night he would say, 
softly: 

“My papa and mamma will be glad quicker 
to see Paul, won’t they?” 

And Aunt Laura would hold him ever so 
close to her and tell him: 

“You’re such a brave little Paul that when 
I write to papa he will be so pleased.” 

Then one day the new uncle came. Auntie 
Lou, who was the “beautifulest person in all 
the world,” because Dorothy said it, had been 
romping with the children on the lawn. All of 
a sudden Papa Tom drove up the street with 
an awfully big man beside him. Auntie Lou 
was very white all in a minute and Beth took 
her hand because she looked as if she had been 
hurt. Aunt Laura came out of the house and 
she said, very much surprised: 

“Why—why—why—” and that was all 
she could seem to say, but she went over to 
Auntie Lou. Papa Tom then spoke up quite 
quickly, and he said, putting his hand on 
Paul’s head: 


6 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


“This is Nellie’s little boy, Paul, Jim.” 
Then to Paul, “Here’s a man that can tell you 
stories—” 

“Is he my uncle?” Paul asked. 

“He’ll let you call him Uncle Jim, I guess,” 
Papa Tom said; then, talking to Uncle Jim 
again, “Come in and clean up, Jim.” 

“What a thing for Tom Gurney to do!” 
Aunt Laura exclaimed after the men had 
gone. “I knew Jim was in the city, but I 
never dreamed of his being brought out here.” 

“I’ll go to the Mayburrys’ to-morrow,” 
Auntie Lou said. “I couldn’t stay now.” 
She was almost crying. 

“You’ll do no such a thing!” Aunt Laura 
was almost as sharp as she was when Jip, 
the black pony, got out of his stall and walked 
all over the new strawberry plants. “It 
would be just ridiculous to go. Why, you 
belong here—he doesn’t. He’ll go away in 
the morning—” 

“Where you goin’?” Beth asked. There 
was a suspicion of tears in her eyes. 

“Auntie Lou’ll stay with Paul till Paul’s 
papa and mamma comes.” It was Paul who 
said it, and his tone was so full of confidence 



NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


7 

that Auntie Lou caught him and kissed him, 
as she replied: 

“Auntie Lou will stay with Paul.” 

That made the children happy again. It 
was then that Dorothy made her wise remark 
about “bran’ new uncles/’ Aunt Laura and 
Auntie Lou had gone in and the children were 
left to amuse themselves, and they played that 
Dorothy had a store and they bought sugar and 
things of her, paying with smooth stones. 

It was tea-time before they saw any of the 
big folks again. They came trooping into the 
living room from the piazza and they came on 
Papa Tom and Aunt Laura, talking. 

“I never believed she wanted him to go 
about his own business,” Papa Tom was say¬ 
ing, “but he believed she did and he went. 
It was a good thing for him, too, because he’s 
made a fortune. He was my closest chum 
and the whitest fellow I ever knew. I intend 
that he shall visit me, and I made him come this 
time, though he hung back mightily. Isn’t 
she satisfied with sending him away ?” as if he 
were angry. “Doesn’t she want him on the 
same earth with her?” 

“She is your only sister,” Aunt Laura said; 


8 NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 

then added, “don’t let the children hear any 
more.” 

At tea-time each child was thinking about 
it, and it was sober thinking. Papa Tom kept 
Uncle Jim talking about the folks they both 
knew when they were boys, and that wasn’t 
very interesting. Auntie Lou was never so 
careful of the children before. She didn’t 
look up once. 

“Now, what will Paul have?” she asked 
when tea was almost over. 

A flush came over Paul’s face. He had 
been looking at the new uncle. 

“I wants a am-mal story,” he answered very 
seriously. 

Papa Tom laughed. “You’re in for it, Jim,” 
he said. “I’ve been in the after-supper-story 
manufacturing business ever since the little 
chap came. Better relieve me and give him 
one. We’ll all go up into the den.” 

Paul had come to the new uncle’s knee, and 
his eyes gave a mute appeal for the story. 
The new uncle caught him up and Papa 
Tom led the way upstairs, the children follow¬ 
ing with pleasant anticipations. 

“Now, there are laws about story-telling,” 
said the new uncle. “Law number one says: 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


9 

that the first child who interrupts must be put 
right to bed.” 

“We won’t speak once,” came a chorus of 
voices. 

“Then, we’ll begin,” said the new uncle. 
“The name of the story will be: 


THE PROUD AND FOOLISH PEACOCK 

D OROTHY chuckled delightedly. Paul 
settled himself against the broad 
shoulder that held him so snugly on 
the arm of the Morris chair. The other chil¬ 
dren came as near as possible, while Papa Tom 
threw himself on the lounge. The new uncle 
began: 

“The peacock had been brought to the farm 
that day, and down in the berry pasture the 
fowls and animals were talking about him. 

“‘What are peacocks good for?’ Woolly, 
the sheep, asked. 


IO 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


“ ‘Just to look at/ replied Neddy, the farm¬ 
er’s boy’s donkey. 

“ ‘Things that are made just to look at don’t 
amount to much/ put in the cow. Her lips 
were shut tightly to show that she did not think 
much of peacocks anyway. 

“ ‘Well, I’m glad I wasn’t made just to look 
at/ sniffed a little brown hen. 

“A bob-o-link, perched on the wall, was 
greatly enjoying all this talking. 

“ ‘They’re jealous,’ he said to himself, and 
he turned his back to them so they would not 
see him smile. 

“ ‘Fine feathers don’t make fine birds/ 
croaked a black crow high up in a pine tree. 

“This last was too much for bob-o-link. 
The little fellow, almost choking with laughter, 
screamed, ‘Bob-o-link, bob-o-link/ and skim¬ 
med away over the fields in the direction of 
the farmhouse. 

“A few minutes later bob-o-link was perched 
on the fence near the corn-barn in which the 
new peacock had its home. He was a vain 
little fellow, this bob-o-link, vain of his fine 
singing, which really everybody likes to hear 
in the early summer time. He did not know 
whether the peacock could sing or not, but he 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


ii 


did know that the peacock had beautiful feath¬ 
ers, and he thought that if he could get 
acquainted with him, the birds and animals 
that met in the berry pasture almost every day 
would wish they were as smart as he was. 
The truth of it is that the bob-o-link liked to 
plague. 

'The bob-o-link was nervous this afternoon, 
so, as he tried to send out his pretty song as 
loudly as he could, he ran everything together. 
This is how he did it: 

“ 'Bob-o-link bob-o-link, bob’link, boblik, 
bleek — 9 

"When he got as far as that he stopped. 
The peacock had come to the corn-barn door, 
and was jerking his head this way and that 
way. You see, the peacock thought that bob- 
o-link had sung: 

" 'Big feet, feet — 9 

"A peacock has the ugliest-looking feet of all 
the birds, and he’s displeased when any one 
reminds him of it. This peacock was cross. 
He thought he would stop that noise around 
his house pretty quick, and he did. He put 
up his great, fan-like tail feathers, and the 
bob-o-link was so surprised at the beautiful 
thing that, after twitching his little head this 


12 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


way and that, he quite forgot what he was do¬ 
ing and started to fly off the fence backwards. 
He got himself right about, after a fashion, 
and sailed away in the air. 

“The peacock knew that he had charmed the 
little bird out of his senses, and the foolish 
thing held his head so high that he could not 
see his feet as he strutted out into the barn¬ 
yard. He looked all around and saw animals 
moving about, and here and there a man at 
work, and he said to himself: 

“ Til begin right away and charm every¬ 
thing. Ell make myself so handsome that 
nothing will be looked at but just me/ 

“He started to take a long walk. Before 
he had gone a great way he passed a lamb, 
feeding, and holding his head still higher, he 
said^ 

“ ‘What an ugly animal! How could any 
one look at him when I am walking out?’ 
He was so pleased with himself that he opened 
his beautiful tail fan. 

“The lamb gave just one glance out of the 
corner of its eye and went on feeding. Just 
at that minute a little girl came skipping 
across the lawn and she went straight to the 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


13 

lamb and threw both her arms around its neck 
and kissed its nose. 

“ ‘Oh, you darling Woolly!’ she said, Tor 
giving me all my nice warm hoods and stock¬ 
ings/ 

“ ‘She never looked at me !’ the peacock said 
to himself. He was very much surprised. 
‘The idea! and I the handsomest bird in the 
world.’ 

“As he went along a little farther there came 
a great rumpus from out of the grass in front 
of him. 

“ ‘Cut-cut-ca-da-cuck!’ was what he heard, 
and every time it came a little faster. All of 
a sudden a little brown hen ran right across 
the peacock’s path. 

“‘Well, I declare!’ thought the proud bird. 
‘What on earth was that pudgy little thing? 
I hope it doesn’t want to try to make itself 
out a relative of mine, just because it’s got 
two legs as I have! Oh, no, I couldn’t have 
that for a minute. There were never any but 
beautiful birds in our family,’ and the silly 
thing actually lifted his feet more gingerly, as 
if he were afraid that they would step where 
the little brown hen’s had touched. 


H 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


“Just at that minute the farmer's wife came 
out of the house with a milk-pail and a milk¬ 
ing-stool. When she heard the hen clucking, 
she called: 

“ ‘Chick, chick, chick, chick, chick; oh, there 
you are, little beauty. You've laid another 

egg?’ 

“The peacock could hardly believe his ears. 

“ ‘Little beauty!' he said over and over 
again, and he tried to twist his graceful neck 
to look back and see if there was anything the 
matter with his tail feathers. ‘Little beauty/ 
and the voice was not as pretty as his body; 
it was said spitefully. 

“The farmer's wife went down toward the 
lake, and the peacock saw her go to a great 
brindle cow. He was disgusted. 

“ ‘Patting that frightful thing's neck!' 
he sneered. ‘Some folks have funny ideas.' 

“ ‘Nice Mollie'—the farmer's wife was pet¬ 
ting the cow—‘I don't know what baby would 
do without your sweet milk.' 

“ ‘And she never looked at me!' the peacock 
was telling himself, his crown raised in 
astonishment. He got out of that neighbor¬ 
hood as soon as he could and ran right into 
a big draught-horse that was feeding. 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


15 


" 'Goodness me!’ the peacock exclaimed, 
staring at the great animal. 'What’s that 
monster? Look at his ruffled-up skin and see 
how smooth I am.’ As if to make the horse 
see the difference, also, he lifted his tail 
feathers. The horse noticed the handsome 
sight for a minute in a mild sort of way, but 
the next instant he was nibbling the green 
grass again. 

"The peacock was too much disturbed to 
keep his tail up. 

" 'I might as well be nothing but a bumble¬ 
bee/ he said to himself. 'I guess I’ll go back 
to the corn-barn and try to think what’s the 
matter with everybody round here/ 

"There was a shout, and the farmer made 
it. He had jumped over the fence and was 
running down toward the pond, where the 
horse was feeding. 

" 'He’s coming to talk about me!’ the pea¬ 
cock told himself, and strutted more than ever, 
but it was to the horse that farmer went, say¬ 
ing: 

"'Come, John, old boy! There are some 
heavy black clouds up in the sky, and it’ll rain 
hard in a little while. We’ll go up to the barn, 
for I can’t have you get a cold. I couldn’t get 


16 NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 

along without you, at all/ and John went 
obediently, because the farmer’s hand was 
stroking the sweaty neck. 

“ ‘Well, if these aren’t queer people I’ve come 
to!’ the peacock sputtered. “This must be one 
of those places where they put folks who don’t 
know what they’re about/ and then he looked 
over toward the pond and saw a donkey feed¬ 
ing. 

“ ‘If I can’t make that thing look at me/ he 
thought, T might as well be just a common 
bird and not a peacock.’ 

“It was simply ridiculous, the things that 
peacock did to make that donkey look at him. 
He rolled his eyes up, and spread his tail, and 
twisted his head to make his handsome crown 
wave like a plume, but it wasn’t any use. 
With the same kind of a look that he would 
give to a cawing crow, the donkey went on 
feeding. All of a sudden the peacock’s hopes 
arose. A little boy was running toward him, 
but the hope soon fell again—the little boy 
went straight to that old donkey. 

“ ‘Come home, Neddy, you stupid/ the little 
boy shouted, pounding the donkey’s long¬ 
haired sides with his small fists. ‘Don’t you 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


1 7 


see there’s goin’ to be a tre-men-jus shower? 
Do you want to get sick with a cold so I can’t 
ride on your back?’ 

“The little fellow tugged so hard that finally 
he got the clumsy beast into a jog-trot, and the 
peacock was left alone. 

“Alone, and so cross. 

“ There go two stupids/ he muttered. 
‘Both of them must have something the matter 
with their eyes.’ 

“If the peacock had not been so very, very 
vain, he would have taken more notice of other 
things than himself, and would have gone 
into his corn-barn as soon as he could. The 
clouds were growing blacker and blacker. 
There was only one idea in his foolish head, 
and that was that he was so beautiful that all 
other things had agreed not to look at him just 
to try to plague him; but you can’t plague a 
silly thing. A silly thing is satisfied with it¬ 
self, and no matter how much one tells it of its 
silliness, it forgets it just as soon as the talk¬ 
ing stops. This peacock began to play a game 
for his own amusement. He began to strut 
up and down the shore of the lake, and to make 
believe that all kinds of birds and animals and 


i8 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


men-folk were sitting around, admiring him; 
then something, that wasn’t make-believe, 
happened. 

“A frightful big wind reached down out of 
those black clouds in the sky. The peacock’s 
handsome tail feathers were spread, and when 
the wind struck that big fan the peacock had 
to hop, then to skip, then to run, and when he 
couldn’t run fast enough the wind just lifted 
him and blew him into the lake. Such a 
squawking and choking as he did make, and 
when he got safely out on the shore what a 
bedraggled-looking bird he was. 

“Something else happened, too. That bob- 
o-link had never once lost sight of the peacock 
since he had been taking his walk. The little 
bird did not sing any, but he would fly along 
and alight on blades of grass, or anything from 
which he could see those wonderful tail 
feathers. Every time the peacock had looked 
in his direction the bob-o-link had flopped him¬ 
self around so as to appear to be engaged; but 
when the wind blew the peacock into the lake 
the bob-o-link chuckled and flew away as fast 
as he could. When the peacock got out on to 
dry land again, there was bob-o-link, with a 
few friends, to greet him. 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


19 


"A blue jay snickered when he saw the drip¬ 
ping bird standing on one foot and looking 
astonished, and a yellow-hammer did his very 
best not to laugh out loud. A crow finally let 
out a mocking 'caw/ and that set all of bob-o- 
link's friends going. Their shout put the 
startled peacock running toward his corn-barn, 
but the friends were so close, and kept hector¬ 
ing him so with their jabbering that he did not 
wait till he got home, but went into the first 
house that came handy. 

"That house happened to be the kennel of 
the cross old watchdog, Tige. Tige was at 
home, taking a nap, and when the peacock's 
wet tail feathers tickled his nose there was 
trouble enough. Tige never even said a bark, 
but he grabbed those tail feathers and began 
pulling them out by the mouthful. Such a 
squawking, growling, and shuffling as those 
bird friends outside heard; then the peacock 
came out—but such a looking peacock as it 
was. 

"The bob-o-link at first felt sorry, but pretty 
soon he was just as bad as the rest of them. 
They were pushing themselves ofif the boughs 
of the trees because they laughed so much they 
couldn't stand up straight. 


20 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


“ ‘Bob-tail! Bob-tail/ they all screamed to¬ 
gether—and well they might cry bob-tail. 
The peacock was going every kind of a way, 
because, without his tail feathers, he could not 
steer straight. 

“‘Don’t be in a hurry; you’ll ruffle your 
feathers.’ It was a squirrel that said it. He 
was keeping up with the plaguing birds by run¬ 
ning along the tree-tops. The birds screamed 
and laughed so that they had to alight on the 
branches again to get their breath. 

“ ‘He isn’t hurrying, he’s showing us how 
nicely he can dance,’ a woodpecker said—then 
there was another screaming shout from the 
friends. 

“ ‘Please raise your beautiful tail,’ gasped 
the blue jay; ‘Mrs. Yellow-hammer wants to 
make one like it.’ 

“Bob-o-link could not say anything. He 
could only chuckle, but the chuckles were so 
loud that the peacock thought he was saying, 
‘Big feet.’ 

“The peacock was not proud now. If he 
could have become the stupidest kind of a 
donkey he would have done it in a minute. 

“ ‘Oh, I’m getting tuckered,’ cried the 
squirrel. He was breathing hard, making be- 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


21 


lieve he was tired. ‘Take off the rest of your 
things and visit a while/ 

“The bird friends thought that was the fun¬ 
niest that had been said, and they chattered so 
that they worried the peacock terribly. 

“ ‘Whoo-o/ shouted an old owl, who had been 
awakened by the noise; but as it was daylight 
he couldn’t see a thing. ‘What’s the matter ?’ 

“That awfully gruff voice took away all the 
pluck the peacock had left. Over and over the 
poor bird turned while he was running. This 
way and that way he went, the birds scream¬ 
ing over his head; then he ran into a tree, 
and for a second lay very still as if he were 
stunned. 

“ ‘Give it one more try, beauty!’ the squirrel 
shouted. 

“The peacock did give another try. No one 
ever saw another peacock run as he did. His 
only thought was to get far away from that 
teasing, laughing bob-o-link crowd. Perhaps 
he is still running; at any rate, he was never 
seen on that farm again. 

“If any of you children ever see a bob¬ 
tailed peacock you may think it came to be 
bob-tailed through its own foolishness and 
pride.” 


22 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


There was a stir in the group. 

“Well, you were all good children,” Said 
Papa Tom. “You never interrupted once.” 

“My!” Paul drew a long, satisfied breath, 
“but that was the goodest story,” and he 
thanked the new uncle by rubbing his soft 
cheek against the bearded one. “Is you got 
a story for next night ?” 

“Yes, he has another,” Papa Tom replied. 
“Yes, you will stay, too,” to the new uncle. “I 
tell you it’ll pay you to stay. Now, children, 
go to mamma to be put to bed!” 

“Is you got one more ?” Paul persisted. 

“He just craves them,” explained Papa Tom. 
“His father has always told him stories, and 
he will stop his play any time to hear one.” 

“I feel I oughtn’t to stop, Tom,” the new 
uncle said hesitatingly. 

“I feel you’ll make the mistake of your life 
if you don’t stay.” Papa Tom said it pretty 
shortly. 

“Well, we’ll see about the next-night story,” 
the new uncle said to Paul. “Now, it’s your 
bedtime.” 

The children started for the nursery with¬ 
out further urging. 




















































t 





























SECOND NIGHT 


A UNT LAURA was quite nervous. The 
unusual stillness of the children fore¬ 
boded further unpleasantness for 
Auntie Lou. 

“You mustn’t tease your new uncle to stay,” 
she told them. “You don’t understand things 
and it isn’t necessary that you be told, but you 
will make Auntie Lou very unhappy if you get 
him to stay.” 

“Is she don’t like him?” Paul asked. 
“Uncle Jim won’t be cross to Auntie Lou. 
Paul will tell him—” 

“But you must not tell him anything,” in 
a tone quite unlike her soft, “comfy” voice. 
“If you do, you will make things worse. Now 
be good children. Papa Tom will tell this 
night’s story. Besides, Uncle Jim is a very 
busy man, and ought to be about his many af¬ 
fairs. We all hope he will go to-day.” 

“You wouldn’t tell him so, would you?” 
25 


26 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


Dorothy asked, her eyes large because of the 
inhospitality of such a thing. 

“No! We just won’t say anything about it, 
but we will trust that you will not tease, and 
we will hope that a very extraordinary situa¬ 
tion will induce him to go.” 

“What’s them—’strod—” Paul began. 

“No matter, dear. Just play and have a 
good time and Aunt Laura will get you some¬ 
thing good from the candy shop if to-night 
every one of you can say that you have not 
teased a single person to-day. 

At noon Auntie Lou came in, and seeing the 
three girls asked: 

“Where’s Paul, dearies?” 

Three sober faces looked up, and three sets 
of pigtails gave a negative shake. 

“But you should know.” Auntie Lou’s 
voice showed anxiety. Aunt Laura came in 
at that minute, and Auntie Lou told her about 
it. “They say they do not know where Paul 
is.” 

Dorothy, observing the seriousness cross 
her mother’s face, explained the situation. 

“We promised we wouldn’t tease and we 
didn’t. We are going to get some candy. 
Paul has gone with Papa and Uncle Jim to 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


27 


see their friends, so’s to watch Uncle Jim 
don’t get away—but he won’t tease, he said 
he wouldn’t. He’ll only keep hold of Uncle 
Jim’s hand.” 

Auntie Lou looked into the worried face of 
Aunt Laura, and burst out laughing. 

"It’s no use,” she said; "I have stood it so 
far with much less inconvenience than I would 
have thought possible and I think we should 
not keep the children out of this next-night 
story. Besides, Tom wants him to stay. 
Really, now that the ice is broken I do not 
mind.” 

That is how it happened that Paul got a 
surprise when he arrived. All his cousins 
seemed to know there was to be a next-night 
story, but he still kept up his close watch on 
his uncle until the same party as on the pre¬ 
vious night were in the den, and then Uncle 
Jim began the story of: 


28 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


TINKLEBELL 

a T N this story there is a boy, Rudolph, 
whose parents were very poor. They 
lived on the edge of a great forest and 
they cut wood for a living. They were very 
ignorant people like all the other wood-cutters. 
It was only because they were wood-cutters 
that they were ignorant. If they had known 
how to do anything else they would not have 
been wood-cutters. 

“In the story, also, is 'Tinklebell,’ queen of 
all the fairies, and a girl, and the girl’s grand¬ 
mother—I will now give rule number one some 
paregoric and put it to sleep a few minutes 
while I see what this young lady wants.” 

Beth had raised her hand, and was looking 
appealingly into the story teller’s face. She 
now asked, timidly: 

“Won’t the girl have any name?” 

“Well,” was the answer, “this is such a 
changeable girl and has such a changeable 
kind of a grandmother that I think she must 
get along without a name for a while. We’ll 
just call them the 'girl,’ and the 'grandmother’ 
until they settle down.” 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


29 


Even Dorothy felt the touch of mystery that 
this information cast abroad, and she nodded, 
as all the other children did, to denote that 
there must be something pretty interesting 
here. Uncle Jim set number-one rule to work 
again. 

“If you should see a handsome rose growing 
on a potato vine you would not be any more 
surprised than that Rudolph should be a child 
of the poor wood-cutters. He was a very fine- 
looking little fellow, and he was not ignorant; 
because he could talk to any bird or animal in 
the forest; and he was a good little boy for he 
would even talk to snakes and turtles and other 
things that crawl. 

“The neighbor wood-choppers did not like 
Rudolph. They thought that such a pretty 
boy ought not be around where there was 
nothing but hardship, and they said Rudolph’s 
father and mother were spoiling the boy. 

“ 'Rudolph is as old as my Jim, and Jim helps 
me in the forest while Rudolph plays,’ one 
neighbor told another. 

“Rudolph’s father knew how the neighbors 
were talking and it worried him. He told his 
wife about it, and said: 

“ 'Perhaps he might work a little.’ 


30 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


“‘No! No!’ exclaimed the mother. ‘I take 
an ax and work in the dreadful forest as hard 
as you, and I earn a happier life for the boy. 
He never will work in the forest while I live/ 

“The neighbors talked more and more, as 
the boy did not come into the forest. 

“ ‘He’s bewitched/ one said. ‘I saw him 
pulling a thorn from a bear’s foot/ 

“ ‘And I saw him walking with his hand on 
a fawn’s back.’ 

“ ‘And I saw him call an oriole from a tree 
and when the bird had ’lighted on his hand 
they made a sort of gibberish together like 
they were talking/ a third reported. 

“Every one said, ‘The boy is bewitched, and 
his father has no power over him/ 

“After a time Rudolph heard the stories and 
they grieved him, but something happened 
which took his thoughts in another direction. 
A traveler passing through the forest became 
ill and fell at the door of Rudolph’s parents’ 
hut. 

“The man was sick a long time, and began 
to get well. The neighbors whispered one to 
another: 

“ ‘It’s the animals that are curing him. 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


3i 

They bring the boy roots and herbs, and tell 
how they are to be taken.’ 

“The traveler had no money to give the boy, 
but he did better. He taught him to read and 
write, and gave him some well-worn books. 

“When Rudolph was fifteen years old, he 
had studied so hard, and liked his books so 
well, that he knew a great deal. One by one 
the wood-choppers began to come to the boy 
to have their tallies fixed right, so that the 
hard-hearted landlords could not wrong them. 

“This delighted the mother. 

“ They will be kinder to him, now,’ she 
thought. 

“But ignorance does not know kindness. 
The poor people began to say that the boy felt 
above them—because he really was above 
them. Their common-sense told them that. 
They talked more and more about his being 
bewitched until the father became gloomy, 
and talked but little. When he did talk it was 
to say: 

“ ‘Have I not had trouble enough without 
my boy becoming bewitched?’ 

“The mother was frightened. She tried to 
turn Rudolph’s thoughts from his forest com- 


32 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


panions. She did not like to have him say 
what the porcupine had told him—” 

“ ‘Sh-h-h/ she would say, and gaze fear¬ 
fully about to see if any one else had heard. 

“ ‘And do you think I am bewitched, too ?’ 
Rudolph asked her, one day. 

“‘No! No! Truly/ she answered hastily, 
‘but other people cannot understand, you 
’ know/ 

“The father complained. 

“ ‘My neighbors pass me by. They do not 
want to talk with the father of a boy, be¬ 
witched/ 

“The mother was very angry. 

“ ‘Tell them Rudolph will not fix up another 
tally for them/ she cried. 

“When this news got to the wood-choppers 
there was a great noise. 

“ ‘What F they cried. ‘The bewitched boy 
will not fix up our tallies ?’ 

“That very day Rudolph told his mother: 

“ ‘I am going away to-night. A swan came 
to me at the lake and told me that I would be 
harmed if I stayed after to-night, and I am 
going/ 

“That night, when the moon was right over 
the hut, Rudolph went out of doors, and the 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


33 


mother, who was watching, saw a gaunt gray 
wolf come up to the boy. In another instant 
Rudolph was on the wolf’s back, and they had 
disappeared. 

“All night long the wolf kept up a springing 
run. Dawn was appearing when a loud shriek 
rang through the forest stillness. Rudolph 
touched the wolf on the neck, and he stopped. 
Both boy and wolf*listened; then there came 
another cry. 

“In an instant the wolf was in the depth of 
the woods, and very soon the cause of the 
scream was known. In front, two immense 
bears were carrying off a woman who was 
dressed like Rudolph’s mother, and looked like 
her, although her face was covered. Rudolph 
leaped from the wolf’s back and faced the 
bears; then spoke to them. It was a strange 
sound that he made, but the bears knew it, and 
the woman was put gently to the ground. 
The two bears, with many raisings and lower¬ 
ings of their heads, backed into the darkness of 
the forest. Rudolph knelt beside the still 
moaning woman. 

“ ‘Are you hurt, mother ?’ he asked. 

“ ‘No,’ was the reply in a high voice—a 
creaky voice like one belonging to a very old 


34 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


person. Thanks to you for your timely ar¬ 
rival, Em .not injured/ 

Rudolph found by questioning that she had 
been stolen by the bears as she had been on her 
way to a neighboring village, and he finally 
overcame her fear and she mounted the wolf, 
and they started away, Rudolph walking at 
the wolf's head. 

“After a time the wolf stopped. 

“ T go no farther, master,' he said. ‘Man 
lives near and he kills.' 

“Rudolph patted the wolf's head and neck; 
then stood watching with the old woman while 
the animal started on his long run back. 

“ ‘Did you talk to the wolf ?' the old woman 
asked, for she could not understand animal 
language. 

“Rudolph did not answer. He thought, 
‘She will say I am bewitched.' 

“The old woman saw that he evaded, and she 
changed the subject, asking: 

“ ‘Where do you go, son ?' 

“ ‘I go to seek work to help my mother and 
father. They are very unhappy. I hope to 
take them away from the terrible forest. They 
work all the time except when they must 
sleep.' 



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The two bears backed into the darkness of 

Page 33. 


THE FOREST 














































































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NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


35 

“ Tt is a good boy who thinks of his father 
and mother/ she returned. 

“They walked on together for an hour. 
The sun had started to rise when they came to 
what appeared to be the top of a hill, for a 
valley lay before them. Through the trees 
Rudolph caught a glimpse of houses. The 
woman stopped. 

“ T will trouble you no longer/ she said. T 
live down in the village. If you do not find 
the work you seek to-day, come to me for 
shelter at the last house on what they call the 
Bow road. I would like to repay you for the 
great assistance you have given me/ 

“It was a different voice from that she had 
used before and he knew that she was dismiss¬ 
ing him, so be began to descend the hill alone. 

“If he had looked back he would have 
thought there was something strange enough 
happening, for that old woman, who had leaned 
on him heavily ever since the wolf turned back, 
suddenly threw back the hood from her face 
and showed herself to be a girl; then she ran 
as fast as a deer runs, in a direction different 
from that which Rudolph had taken. 

“It was still very early in the morning. 
Rudolph came down the long hill until he was 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


36 

clear of the tall trees, and he could see the 
pretty town plainly. He sat on some soft moss 
and ate some of the hard bread he had 
brought; then curled himself behind a tree and 
went to sleep. 

“When he awoke the sun was pouring its 
rays down on him, and he was warmer and 
more comfortable than he had ever been when 
awakening in his cheerless forest home. Peo¬ 
ple were now stirring about in the streets of 
the village down in front. Occasionally the 
shout of a boy reached him, or the bark of a 
dog. It was a beautiful village. The boy’s 
eyes were pleased because the houses were 
painted bright colors. The huts of the wood- 
choppers in the forest was a dull, rusty gray. 

“He was timid about approaching the vil¬ 
lage, for he knew but little of the world. Ex¬ 
cept the old woman he had helped that morn¬ 
ing, and the man who had taught him to read, 
and the wood-choppers who had come to have 
their tallies ‘fixed,’ he had never seen any one 
but his father and mother. 

“He finally came into the town and stopped 
at a butcher’s shop. 

“ ‘Could I get work with you, here,’ he be- 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


37 

gan, feeling very strange, 'that I may earn my 
living ?’ 

"The butcher looked him over. He was a 
very big butcher, and he replied. 

“ 'Can you cut up a beef ?’ 

“ T can learn/ Rudolph said. 

" T want none of you/ the butcher told him. 
'There are many in the village who can learn. 
I am no schoolmaster to be teaching all the 
time. I have no work for you/ 

"Next he tried at a baker’s. 

"'No/ was the gruff answer; 'I have two 
boys of my own and I want no other around/ 
"To the blacksmith he said: 

" 'I am strong and wish work. Would you 
give it to me?’ 

"The blacksmith pointed to a block of iron. 

" Til try you/ he said. 'Lift that/ 
"Rudolph bent over the huge weight, but 
it would not lift from the ground. The black¬ 
smith raised it with one hand, and said: 

" 'It’s a candy shop where you would better 
fit. There’s no place for you here.’ 

"But at the candy shop they wanted no help. 
All day long Rudolph was told that there was 
no room for him, and at night he sat on a 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


38 

hummock on the outskirts of the village, 
hungrier, sadder, and more puzzled than he 
had ever been before in all his life. 

“ The swan told me/ he kept saying over 
and over again; then he thought of the old 
woman whom he had helped on the road that 
morning. When she had told him to come to 
her if he did not find work he had laughed 
to himself, for he trusted in the swan. He be¬ 
lieved that he was to begin that day to earn 
money, but now he thought how wise the old 
woman was. He was very glad that he had 
the place to go to, and was quickly put on his 
way when he asked of the first person he met, 
about the whereabouts of the Bow road. 

‘The last house on the Bow road made him 
stare. It was the largest, most beautiful 
house in the village, and Rudolph felt a great 
disappointment when he thought: 

“ The poor old woman was crazed. She 
could never live in so grand a place/ 

“He had turned away when the door of the 
house opened and a voice called: 

“ ‘Boy! Come here!’ 

“Rudolph went toward the house. Of all 
the new and strange things he had seen that 
day, this one calling to him was the most won- 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


39 


derful. In all the forest plumage and grace, 
there was no equal to this. He could only 
stare. 

“ ‘Did you never see a girl, before ?* asked 
the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. 

“ Tf you are one, I have never seen one 
before/ Rudolph answered, 

“ ‘Why are you staring at the house ?’ came 
the question. 

“Rudolph told her why he had come—but 
before he had finished she was smiling on him. 
She said: 

“ ‘Yes; Grandmother wants you to be taken 
to your room, and Neggo will give you a bath 
because you are weary. You are to put on 
the suit of silk and gold which Neggo will 
give you because your clothes are travel- 
stained. You are to come down to supper at 
once because you are hungry, and you are to 
stay here as long as you will, because you 
saved her from the terrible —■ 

“She did not finish it. She had burst out 
crying and she was so shaken by her sobs that 
her hair fell about her face and nearly reached 
the ground. Rudolph was gazing at her in 
wondering admiration when he became aware 
that a little man with a very large head and a f 


40 


NEXT-NIGHT. STORIES 


very large nose and short legs and arms, was 
standing near. 

“ T am Neggo/ the little man said. ‘Come.’ 

“It was all so strange, so elegant, that 
Rudolph was afraid he was dreaming. He 
had never seen a bed before, but had slept on 
the floor. When he was dressed in the beauti¬ 
ful silk and gold clothes, with long silk stock¬ 
ings to his waist, and silver-buckled shoes, a 
feathered cap on his head, and a gold sash, 
which supported an elegant jeweled sword at 
his side, he thought that he must be a girl, 
too, he was so good to look at. But when he 
went downstairs, following Neggo, and saw 
the real girl, he knew that there was only one 
of that species anywhere about. She was so 
beautiful that he knew that above everything 
else in life he wanted to look at her, and to 
wait on her. Even though almost every min¬ 
ute that he gazed on the wonderful things 
around him he was also thinking of the 
miserable hut in which he had lived, and of his 
hard-working father and mother whom he 
wished to help, he hoped that he might never 
go out of the sight of the lovely thing that 
called itself a girl. 

"And the girl—she was very nice to him. 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


4i 

“ ‘What a pretty fairy prince you would 
make/ she said. 

“The boy blushed, because her eyes showed 
such pleasure in him. 

“The supper they ate would have astonished 
Rudolph so that he could not eat, if it were 
not that he had already been astonished so 
much there was no more room for astonish¬ 
ment. 

“ ‘And my father and mother eating nothing 
but the coarse bread/ he thought many times. 
He looked often about, and the girl finally 
said: 

“ ‘I’m sorry that you cannot see Grand¬ 
mother, but she is quite ill from her fright —■ 

“ ‘The neighbors were right/ Rudolph 
thought. ‘I am bewitched/ The next instant 
he was down on his knees before her, imploring 
her to tell him what the matter was, for her 
head was down on the carved table and she was 
sobbing so hard that all her hair was tumbled 
again. 

“ ‘Oh, I am the most unhappy fai—I mean 
I am—the most—unhappy quee—I mean I am 
the most unhappy—girl in all the world,” she 
sobbed. 

“‘But why should you be unhappy?’ Ru- 


42 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


dolph persisted. He had taken one of her 
hands. All his bashfulness was gone, for he 
felt that after his father and mother were 
taken care of he would spend his whole life 
in making this girl happy. 

“ T—I am—afraid—of—be—bears/ she 
cried. 

“Rudolph could not see anything of her head 
and shoulders because of her beautiful hair, 
but he made a little place by brushing it aside 
so that her soft cheek was shown. He laughed, 
for a new thought had come to him. If she 
was so lovely, she needed him. He said, 
soothingly: 

“ T play with bears. Ask Grandmother 
what I can do with bears. Ask her if they 
did not go into the woods when I told them 
to. I tell them what I want and they get it 
for me. I will not let them touch you/ 

“ ‘But when you go away?’ she said doubt¬ 
fully, and still sobbing. 

“ Til come again as soon as I help my 
mother and father/ he said. 

“He told her that he had heard of a great 
factory in another village, that day. 

“ T can read and write and do examples/ 
he said, proudly. T will go there and get work, 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


43 

and then I will bring my mother and father to 
this village—’ 

“ ‘But wouldn’t you wait until you have first 
made the bears go away?’ she asked, looking 
out at him from under her wonderful hair. 

“Rudolph hung his own head. T must help 
my mother and father first/ he answered, ‘for 
they have always been unhappy. You are only 
unhappy when you can not do what you want 
to do/ 

“When he went to sleep that night, in the 
great soft bed, it was not the strange and 
gorgeous things he had seen that day which 
filled his mind. He thought only of the girl, 
who was afraid of bears and who had been so 
kind to him when she really understood that 
she must not be the first to claim his protec¬ 
tion. 

“ ‘I will tell all the bears that if they frighten 
her they hurt me/ he said to himself. 

In the morning Neggo knocked on the door, 
and said: 

“ ‘Put on the same clothes you wore last. 
Breakfast is waiting/ 

“Rudolph’s happiness was not now so great. 

“ ‘I can not get work to do if I wear such 
clothes/ he thought. 


44 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


“But he did as he was told, and when he saw 
the girl he forgot everything. 

“ ‘Grandmother wants you to do something 
else for her/ the girl said. ‘She says she will 
help you to help your mother and father if you 
will go by the mountain path to-day, and when 
you come to the branch path you are to go by it 
until you come to a girl—’ 

“ ‘Another girl ?’ asked Rudolph, staring. 

“ ‘Yes/ with a laugh. ‘You are to step up 
behind this girl and lean over her and say: 

“‘“Hello, Tinklebell!” and then the other 
girl will tell you what to do/ 

“It was harder to understand than the mul¬ 
tiplication table had been, but Rudolph would 
have done anything asked by the girl so near 
him. He was pretty sober, though, as he 
asked: 

“ ‘Shall I see you again—pretty soon ?’ 

“ ‘Oh, I think so! Or how will you keep 
the bears away from me ?’ 

“They had breakfast together, then Ru¬ 
dolph started on his errand. He walked 
briskly by the mountain path, and passed the 
village down below, where yesterday none 
would give him work; then he was pushing 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


45 

on, beyond the hearing of barking dogs or 
shouting village boys. 

“Finally he came to the place where the 
branch path began, and then he saw in front 
something which looked just like the girl, sit¬ 
ting beside the path. Walking up on tiptoe, 
he had his arms about her before she suspected 
he was near, and leaning over her he called: 

“ ‘Hello, Tinklebell P 

“The next instant he had let go of her, and 
was standing away from her, his handsome 
face flushed with amazement. It was the only 
girl he had ever seen, whose face he was look¬ 
ing into. It was she who had told him to 
come. 

“The girl took his hand and tried to lead 
him further along the path, but he held back. 
Suddenly he felt they were not alone. Some¬ 
thing seemed to be moving near him, but when 
he looked about it was gone; then in a twink¬ 
ling, thousands and thousands of fairies were 
about him. He looked for the girl. She was 
a fairy, too. 

“But she was a sad-looking, beautiful fairy. 

“ ‘Just look at your frocks/ she said, all wor¬ 
ried, to the thousands and thousands of fairies. 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


46 

“ 'They’re at it again/ the fairies shouted. 
They’re at it quite terribly.’ 

"With that the girl fairy just slumped. She 
was down on the grass and there was her hair 
blowing every-which-way, for her sobbing had 
loosened it. 

“ 'Oh, I’m such an un-unhap-py fai-fairy 
Queeeeeen!’ she wept. 

"The thousands and thousands of fairies be¬ 
gan to weep, too, for the queen always sets the 
fashion. The queen went on: 

" 'Look at their fro-fro-frocks, all rum-rum- 
rumpled, and of course they did-didn’t do it 
them-themselves. The bea-bears have been 
rol-rol-rolling on them—’ 

"Rudolph was too puzzled to say anything. 
The fairy queen said: 

" 'The bea-bears are just dreadful. I was 
telling them to behave them-themselves and I 
had turned myself into my grandmo-mother 
so that they would think-think I was old-old 
enough to know what is ri-right when they 
car-carried me off, and you saved me. It 
wasn’t my grandmother. It was I.’ 

" 'I guess I’m bewitched, all right,’ thought 
Rudolph; then "if you can change yourself into 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


47 

your grandmother, I should think you could 
make the bears mind/ 

“ 'Eve for-forgot-forgotten the words for 
bea-bears. They know Eve forgotten—and 
they act hor-horrid.’ 

“Now that Rudolph understood it, there was 
something funny about it. 

“ T think I’ll have to take care of you first,’ 
he said, and he sat down beside her. 

“She looked up at him with a very lovely 
smile. Just a minute ago she was weeping, 
but it is a well-known fact that a fairy or a 
girl will smile just as soon as she gets a thing 
done in her way, and when she wants it done. 
Here was Rudolph saying that he would take 
care of her first, and she was perfectly satisfied. 

“The next minute Rudolph was moving. 
Not walking, for his feet did not move; nor rid¬ 
ing, because there was nothing to ride on, but 
just going. Queen Tinklebell and the thou¬ 
sands and thousands of fairies were close be¬ 
side him. 

“The sun seemed to be going down. Twink¬ 
ling lights began to appear, and Rudolph saw 
that each fairy had a star in her hair. Also 
now that it was dark and the lights had come 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


48 

out, Rudolph saw that each fairy wore a trail¬ 
ing top-coat of purest white bumblebee-spun 
webbing. 

“All of a sudden Queen Tinklebell gave a 
loud scream, and fell, discouraged, into Ru¬ 
dolph’s arms. 

“Rudolph knew that it must be bears again, 
but when he looked up he was indignant. 
Right in front of him were two hundred and 
fifty light-brown bears with black-tipped ears 
and they were tumbling all about in what 
seemed an ocean of whitest milk—but it was 
the laundry—the top-coats and sashes that 
belonged to the fairies. 

“ ‘Did you ever!’ gasped Queen Tinklebell; 
then putting her hands on Rudolph’s shoul¬ 
ders, she asked tearfully, 'You won’t go away 
from me, will you ? No matter if I am a queen, 
you see I have to be taken care of.’ 

“And that is the reason that a girl, who is 
always somebody’s queen, has to have a boy 
around. She has to be taken care of. 

“Rudolph went up to those bears. No fairy 
in that band knew what he was saying, but they 
all saw the bears stop, and sit up in good be¬ 
havior, and hold their heads on one side, they 
were listening so hard. Finally every one of 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


49 


those two hundred and fifty bears began to 
drop their heads until they were right on the 
ground, and they stood on them and they 
leaned on their front paws to steady them¬ 
selves while they raised their hind legs into 
the air and wobbled their feet to show how 
ashamed they were. 

“Rudolph took Queen Tinklebell up to them 
and, while holding her hand, patted each of 
the bears on its nose, and the bears were so 
pleased that they whispered to him the words 
which would make them behave, and he told it 
to her. 

“From that time bears and fairies have al¬ 
ways been the best of friends, and fairies’ top¬ 
coats are never rumpled. 

“Queen Tinklebell showed that she was a 
good queen. She took Rudolph to a leafy 
bower where there was hidden the greatest 
amount of gold, and she waved her wand and 
took all the weight out of it, so that the more 
Rudolph put into his pockets the lighter he was 
until when he had enough gold to keep his 
mother and father happy and contented all 
their lives, he was so light that he could not 
keep on the ground, and of course to be light, 
that way, makes a boy happy. 


5o 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


“Rudolph brought his mother and father to 
the pretty village, and they lived in content¬ 
ment. For many years the ignorant wood- 
choppers in the forest told of the bewitched 
boy who made his father and mother strangely 
disappear, but you know that there was noth¬ 
ing strange about it. I suppose that even now 
some ignorant people would think it queer if, 
going through that village, they should hear 
wonderful music, and hardly one of them 
would believe the sweet sounds were made by 
thousands and thousands of fairies who were 
singing to Queen Tinklebell and the boy who 
always stayed with her to see that the bears 
behaved themselves ever after.” 

“I guess those horrid wood-choppers were 
sorry when they knew about how Rudolph's 
father and mother were so rich,” Dorothy sug¬ 
gested, when the story was over. 

“I would like to see those buff bears with the 
black-tipped ears a-tumblin' around in the 
laundry,” Weezy said, laughing. 

“I guess we're all glad you was here to¬ 
night,” Paul declared. “I'm goin' to have 
Auntie Lou and Aunt Laura to the next- 
nights pretty soon.” 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 51 

Uncle Jim looked over toward Papa Tom, 
and didn’t speak. 

“I shouldn’t wonder if he did,” Papa Tom 
told him. “I haven’t found anything around 
here that he’s given up on, yet.” 

And he laughed, as he said it. 








) 

































THIRD NIGHT 


W HEN Uncle Jim began his “third- 
night” story the entire family were 
listeners. It happened in this way: 
Uncle Jim took Paul out for a walk in the 
afternoon, and, before he was aware of it, Paul 
was the one who was doing the taking. 

“Fs got a s’prise for you that you mustn’t 
tell,” Paul had said suddenly, and, tugging at 
Uncle Jim’s hand, he led the way till he came 
to a little schoolhouse in the shade of some big 
pine trees. When Uncle Jim found himself in¬ 
side the schoolhouse he just had the surprise 
of his life. Auntie Lou was the school¬ 
teacher. 

“We’s come vis’t’ng,” Paul told her. Her 
face was so very red that he was afraid she 
did not like to have visitors, and he could not 
understand it because he had come “vis’t’ng” 
before, but then she caught him up and kissed 
him, and he was happy again. 

55 


56 NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 

“I—I assure you I didn’t have the least idea 
of it—” Uncle Jim began. 

“Don’t matter,” interrupted Paul; “Auntie 
Lou’s glad I brung you. See her sun-smile 
come? We’s goin’ to stay, so’s we can go 
home with her.” 

“I guess we’d better go now,” Uncle Jim 
said. 

“Don’t you want to stay?” Paul asked. 

“Well—if she’ll let me.” Uncle Jim was 
laughing a little, but he was not looking at 
Auntie Lou. 

“He can stay, can’t he, Auntie Lou?” per¬ 
sisted the little fellow. “You’ll come to the 
story to-night, won’t you? It’s ammals ’n’ 
birds ’n’ things.” 

Well, they did stay, and when they walked 
home from school Auntie Lou took Paul’s left 
hand, and Uncle Jim had his right hand. Paul 
prattled happily until he saw his little cousins 
swinging on the gate and waiting for him, then 
he deserted his larger companions. 

“Auntie Lou’s coming to the story!” he cried. 
“We’s got to have Aunt Laura, too.” 

So it happened that the whole family heard 
the story of: 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


57 


THE DONKEY AND THE WOLF 

u T T was a bitterly cold night. A great, 
I round moon flooded a creamy light 
over snow which covered fences and 
walls. High in the air, branches of trees 
sighed or scolded as the wind disturbed them, 
and once in a while they got a good shaking- 
up and they complained in a loud shriek. 

“At three places in the great snowfield 
twinkling lights showed where men-folk 
lived. Near one of the brightest lights was a 
shed with the sides almost snow-covered and 
in the shed a donkey lay on a bed of straw, fast 
asleep. 

“Out in the snow a jack-rabbit had stopped, 
and was looking about in a puzzled sort of 
way. He was thinking so hard that his ears 
stood up straight. Suddenly the branches 
shrieked and his ears were blown down to his 
back and his coat was mussed in the roughest 
manner. 

“ ‘O dear!’ he complained, shivering with 
cold; ‘where’s the road? I b’lieve I’m lost. 
So much snow has come since I’ve been to 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


58 

Aunt Bunnie’s that I don’t know which tree 
our burrow is near. O dear, what’ll I do!’ 

“The wind did not seem to care about the 
poor little rabbit’s worries. It blew his long 
ears sidewise and took up big handfuls of snow, 
which it threw in his face. He was almost 
crying, while he tried to clear out his eyes; 
then he noticed the roof of the shed not twenty 
jumps away. 

“In a very little while jack-rabbit had 
plowed a snow furrow to the shed. He wanted 
to get on its other side where the wind would 
not blow him every-which-way, and where he 
could think better. He climbed along on the 
top of the snowdrift, every step sinking in to 
his stomach, but when he came to the end of 
the shed he saw quite a large bare spot. The 
big drift had been made in a kind of a snow 
fort. He scrambled down on the bare ground 
and then he found something else, which was 
pretty pleasant for him. In the end of the shed 
was a hole. Before you could hardly think 
about it he had gone through that hole and was 
right inside the shed. 

“ ‘Burrrr/ he said, stamping his hind feet 
and rubbing his big ears with his front paws; 
Toughest night this winter. Lucky I’ve got 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


59 

a rabbit’s paw with me, or I wouldn’t have 
found this nice place.’ 

“ Who’s that out there?’ 

“It was the donkey who asked it, in a sleepy, 
though loud, deep bray. Jack-rabbit’s heart 
[jumped into his mouth, it was such a gruff 
voice. For a minute he wished he hadn’t come 
in, but it was so much warmer here that he 
mustered up courage to say: 

“ Tt’s only me, jack-rabbit. I’ll go right out 
again as soon as I get warm. Hope I didn’t 
wake you up. I won’t nibble anything—hon¬ 
est, truly I won’t.’ 

“You see, jack-rabbits know that everybody 
says they are very destructive. They nibble 
everything. 

“Although the donkey does have a terrible 
voice, he is a very mild animal. He really 
doesn’t mean to scare any one. This was an 
extra-nice donkey. He was sorry for the jack- 
rabbit, and he said: 

“ ‘You needn’t go out doors if you don’t 
want to. Come over in the straw and cuddle 
up with me.’ 

“‘Oh, thank you kindly!’ Jack-rabbit’s 
voice was a squeak, he said it so quickly. He 
was over in the straw in three jumps and a 


6o 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


hop. When he was very snug and warm he 
drew a long breath and spoke up, very com¬ 
fortably : 

“ 'My, but isn’t this nice! I hope- there 
isn’t any other animal out this cold night.’ 

"But there was another animal out, and quite 
near, too. 

"Standing in the very spot where the jack- 
rabbit had found he was lost, a thin cur dog 
was looking at the furrow in the snow. 

" 'Some one’s been here just lately,’ the cur 
dog was telling himself. His voice was a 
croak, for he had a sore throat from being out 
in the snow so much. He looked very hungry. 
'O dear, I wish I could find some place to get 
warm in! I had a dream last night and I 
thought I was a nice man’s dog and he let me 
lie down on a mat in front of the fire, and he 
gave me a bone with real meat on it.’ 

"He looked all round, but he did not see 
anything encouraging. To think of a dream 
as nice as that when he is very hungry makes 
a cur dog miserable, and this one raised his 
sorry face to the moon and gave three dismal 
yelps. 

" 'I never b’longed to anybody,’ he whim¬ 
pered. 'Nobody wants me. I wish some wolf 



— Par/e 59. 


“ WHO’S THAT OUT THERE? ” 









































































NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


61 


would come along and eat me up. I wouldn’t 
know I was cold and hungry then/ and he 
howled three times more to the moon. 

“A frightful wind snap came in the branches 
overhead. The cur dog leaped right into the 
air. He thought perhaps some bad boy had 
thrown a firecracker at him. When he got 
over his fright he found he was jumping along 
the furrow the jack-rabbit had made toward 
the shed, and by and by he came to the hole in 
the shed. 

“He was so surprised that, for a minute, he 
wished he hadn’t found the hole. He was 
afraid to go in, but when the wind gave the 
trees another shaking-up he put his nose into 
the shed, then his ears, then went in all over. 

“ 'Whew! but this is a cold night!’ he said. 
He talked as loudly as his sore throat would 
let him, because if he was going to get a kick 
from some one he wanted it right quick. If 
he wasn’t to get a kick he thought it was a 
good place to have a nap in. 

“Nothing happened, and he tried it again. 
He began to talk some more, and he made be¬ 
lieve he was brave. 

“ Til have just a little sleep until the sun 
comes up; then I’ll go right out.’ 


62 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


“Just then another sleepy bray came from 
the donkey: 

“'Who’s out there, making all that 

NOISE, TALKING?’ 

“ 'Only just me—cur dog,” came the meek 
answer. 'If you please let me stay and have a 
little nap, I’ll go away when the sun gets up. 
I won’t bark and growl in my sleep.’ 

“You know, everybody says that dogs bark 
and growl in their sleep. 

“ 'You can come right over here in the straw 
with jack-rabbit and me, if you want to,’ the 
kind donkey told him. 

“The cur dog was over in the straw in a 
wink of time, and in a little while he was snug¬ 
ger and warmer than he had been all winter. 

“ 'This is pretty nice,’ he said. 'It’s as good 
as if I was in front of the nice man’s fire— 
but I don’t—see—any bone.’ 

“The cur dog was so hungry that his teeth 
chattered. 

“ 'We don’t have any bones,’ the donkey 
thought, out loud. He didn’t like to see ani¬ 
mals hungry. 'There’s a nice big rutabaga 
turnip left over from my supper. It’s cold, but 
turnips are filling—” 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 63 

“ ‘Oh, I just love rutabaga turnips/ the cur 
dog’s tail was wagging so fast that it kept turn¬ 
ing him around. 

“The jack-rabbit pricked up his long ears. 
He said that he might take the tiniest nibble 
out of a rutabaga turnip himself. Pretty soon 
the cur dog brought the turnip into the straw, 
and pretty soon after that the donkey, dog and 
rabbit were fast asleep, none of them hungry, 
and all of them very comfortable. 

“The night grew colder. The branches of 
the trees thrashed each other dreadfully. The 
wind would not let them stop even for a min¬ 
ute. All of a sudden the donkey and dog and 
rabbit were awakened. 

“Something had come against the side of the 
shed with a ‘whack.’ There was a noise like 
the beating of wings; then all was still again. 
Pretty soon there was a sputtering in a high 
voice. It sounded just as ladies sound when 
they are provoked. The sputtering was in the 
shed. Whatever it was had come in through 
the hole that the rabbit and dog had found. 
This was what the sputterer said: 

“ ‘My sakes! but the wind is getting rougher 
and rougher every year. If a partridge can’t 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


64 

fly over to her daughter Speckles’s house to 
ask how the children are, without being blown 
against a barn, it’s a pretty how-de-do!’ 

“Just then the dog sneezed, he was so com¬ 
fortable. 

“ ‘My sakes! what’s that?’ the voice outside 
the stall exclaimed. ‘Whoever you are, I want 
to say that I did not come in here on purpose. 
I was blowed in. I’m old Mrs. Partridge, and 
I live back of Mr. Jones’s house in the woods, 
and I was going over to my daughter Speck¬ 
les’s. I’m no thief, and I’d have you to 
know it.’ 

“She didn’t make a single ‘lower your voice’ 
in the whole of it. She ran right along as the 
brook does when spring comes. 

“ ‘I hope you didn’t hurt yourself, ma’am,’ 
the donkey remarked. He was a polite donkey 
as well as a kind one. 

“ ‘No, I didn’t, sir,’ was the answer. ‘Your 
voice sounds as though you were good to the 
poor, and if you’ll give me a bite to eat I won’t 
have any hard feelings for your shed being just 
where I was blown by the wind. The winter’s 
been a hard one on birds, and I can’t find any 
boxberries or grass-root for the chicks.’ 

“The donkey was dizzy in his head because 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 65 

she talked so straight without taking any 
breath; but he said: 

“ ‘The jack-rabbit and the cur dog have just 
had a nibble of rutabaga turnip and there's 
some left. Won't you walk in and have a pick 
at it?' 

“Mrs. Partridge did not have to be asked 
a second time. She came at once. As she was 
eating away as fast as she could, she looked all 
around and saw the clean straw, the roof that 
kept the snow out, and the sides of the shed, 
that even the strongest wind could not blow 
down. 

“ ‘It must be nice to live with men-folk,' she 
said; ‘but, then, you have to work, and I don't. 
I go where I want to and when I want to.' 

“ ‘I don't have to work, either,' broke in the 
jack-rabbit. 

“ ‘My, I'm glad some one who has to work 
let us come into his house and gave us ruta¬ 
baga turnip to-night,' the cur dog said, and he 
sighed happily. 

“Mrs. Partridge seemed to think this remark 
was hitting her. She stopped eating, but just 
then she thought again. 

“ ‘My daughter Speckles's chicks, they just 
love rutabaga turnip.' 


66 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


“ 'Don’t think of going out again this cold 
night, ma’am/ the polite donkey said. 'You 
can carry some turnip to the chicks in the 
morning, or perhaps you might bring them 
over here/ 

" 'O dear, no/ with a shake of her head, 'the 
farmer has a gun, and—’ 

" 'Excuse me, ma’am/ the donkey said, 'I 
forgot that.’ 

" 'Does he shoot much ?’ It was the rabbit 
that asked it, and he was nervous. 

" 'He’s abed now, anyway/ the donkey told 
them. 'You’ll be away early in the morning. 
Better stop, Mrs. Partridge.’ 

"Mrs. Partridge settled herself in the thick¬ 
est of the straw, quite close to the cur dog, who 
was bashful all of a sudden. He never was 
so close to such an elegant fowl, before. 

" 'My!’ said the partridge, 'I don’t wonder 
you work if you can live like this.’ 

"It was very late, and they were all tired, 
and were soon fast asleep.” 

"Now it happened that the wolf was out 
on this same night. He had been running 
through the woods, and when he came out 
where he could see the moonlit snow, and the 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 67 

lights in houses, he looked up at the moon and 
his thin cheeks stretched sidewise in a grim 
sort of smile. 

“He was a lank, long-legged wolf, and farm¬ 
er’s homes always make a lank, long-legged 
wolf think of jack-rabbits that are after the 
cabbages. When a wolf is a little hungry he 
eats rabbits, foxes, and birds. When he is 
pretty hungry he will eat calves and sheep. 
When he is very hungry he will eat apples and 
potatoes, but I’ve never found any one who 
would say he ever saw a wolf eat a rutabaga 
turnip. 

“A cold, windy night is the night to suit a 
wolf if his stomach is full, for he wears a warm 
coat, and he can run so fast that Jack Frost 
can’t keep up with him; but if you ever meet a 
hungry wolf on a cold, windy night, you want 
to watch out. 

“This wolf began to run toward the lights, 
and it wasn’t very long before he came to the 
tracks in the snow that the jack-rabbit and the 
cur dog had made. His thin cheeks stretched 
again, and he looked up and winked at the 
moon. Pretty soon he came to where the other 
animals had turned off to the shed; then he 
tiptoed, tiptoed, along the top of the big snow- 


68 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


drift, and soon reached the bare spot in 
the ground, and was looking at the hole in the 
shed. 

“He was a very cunning wolf, and a cunning 
wolf doesn’t like to venture where he can’t see 
on all sides of himself, but he was also a very 
hungry wolf. After a while he put his long 
snout through the hole, then his sloping fore¬ 
head, then his sharp-pointed ears, that are so 
keen they can almost hear the grass grow in 
summer. 

“The sharp snout scented the jack-rabbit, 
and a fierce joy lighted up the wolf’s face. His 
tongue lolled from his mouth. He dragged his 
lank body through the hole and stood up 
straight inside the shed. 

“As he looked into the darkness, the thick 
tippet stood up about his neck in hungry ex¬ 
citement. He heard the donkey snore, and he 
was glad; but he did not fear him, anyway. 
The wolf thinks there is nothing so stupid as a 
donkey. When a wolf wants to make his 
babies laugh he tells them a story about a 
stupid donkey. 

“This wolf crept around to the stall. He 
was almost into the straw and was stretching 
his neck to find the jack-rabbit, when the cur 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 69 

dog did what everybody says cur dogs do. He 
growled, and barked in his sleep. 

“ 'Well, well, well/ said the rabbit crossly, 
‘you’re the uneasiest thing I ever slept with. 
I haven’t had a wink of sleep all night.’ 

"It was a wrong story, for the rabbit was 
not fully awake yet; but when he saw two burn¬ 
ing eyes looking at him he was awake enough. 
His heart came into his mouth, and he gave 
such a jump that when he came down he was 
on the other side of the donkey. 

"The stir he made aroused Mrs. Partridge, 
and she saw the eyes. With a ‘cluck’ of ter¬ 
ror she threw herself over the donkey’s back 
and came down on top of the jack-rabbit. 
They were still breathless when the cur dog 
came down on both of them. The last fall on 
his back awakened the donkey. 

"The donkey looked into the glistening eyes 
of the wolf. He brought his iron-shod foot 
out so it would be handy, but he never lost his 
politeness. 

" ‘Good evening/ he said. 

"The wolf saw that he wasn’t going to get 
the jack-rabbit quite so easily as he had hoped, 
but he was not discouraged. He said to him¬ 
self: 


7 o 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


“ Til pull the hair over your stupid eyes 
pretty quick, and then Ell eat the rabbit and 
the partridge and the dog; all of them/ but 
when he answered the donkey his voice was 
squeaky, and he made his legs shake. 

“ Tm so sick/ he squeaked. T can’t eat 
anything. I can’t sleep. I have such awful 
dreams about the jack-rabbits and the part¬ 
ridges and the cur dogs I used to eat when I 
was a bad wolf that I’m afraid to go to bed. I 
heard you were a good doctor, and I came to 
see if you couldn’t give me some medicine.’ 

“The donkey might have been stupid if he 
was alone, but when he felt the rabbit and the 
dog and the partridge all trembling so that 
their feet were drumming on his back he began 
to do a little thinking. After a while he said, 
as if he was sorry the wolf was so sick: 

“ 'You lie down in the straw and I’ll feel 
your pulse.’ The three little friends on his 
other side were trembling again, and all of a 
sudden the donkey began to think of how the 
wolf was trying to pull the hair over his eyes, 
and this thought made him laugh so, inside, 
that the tears came. 

“ 'Perhaps I’d better lie on the other side 
of you/ said the cunning wolf. Tm afraid of 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 71 

draughts here. Owuuu/ in a long whine, T 
do feel so sick!' 

“Such a patter of feet came on the donkey’s 
back, but there wasn’t any need of their fright. 
The donkey understood everything now, and 
he answered: 

“ 'That side is so nervous that I couldn’t 
sleep if anything was there. You lie where 
you are and go to sleep. I’ll think what it is 
best to give you/ 

“ 'Oh, thanks,’ the wolf said, but inside he 
was ugly. He thought it best to keep quiet, 
so that the donkey would go to sleep, too, and 
give him a chance to pounce on the rabbit. He 
knew it wouldn’t be right to appear too com¬ 
fortable, though, so he moaned and groaned. 

“ 'You must be feeling pretty bad,’ the don¬ 
key told him. When a donkey once under¬ 
stands a thing he is as bright as any animal, 
and now this donkey kept growing more tickled 
every minute, because he understood things so 
well. 

“ 'Oh, I’m in agony,’ the wolf replied. 'I’ve 
got such pains. I guess it’s because I’ve been 
such a bad wolf/ 

“All the time he was inching, inching, to get 
a little nearer the rabbit. Every few minutes 


72 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


what he was going* to eat pretty soon was so 
good to think about that he would lick his 
chops. The donkey heard it, and shut his eyes, 
all but one corner of each, and began to breathe 
heavily. The wolf became bolder and rustled 
the straw. He was getting nearer and nearer 
the rabbit. The rabbit never before had been 
so frightened. Just as the wolf was about 
to spring, the donkey threw out his foot 
and kicked him hard; then pretended to 
awake. 

“ ‘You’re awfully restless,’ the donkey said. 
T’ve thought out the medicine, but it’s very 
nasty-tasting.’ 

“ 'Oh, I don’t care how nasty it tastes,’ the 
wolf shouted. It was an angry shout. He 
had almost caught the rabbit, and now this 
stupid donkey must wake and bother him. 
He brought his voice down again so that the 
donkey wouldn’t suspect, and he said, Tf it will 
only make me well I’ll take it.’ 

“ 'It’s rutabaga turnip,’ the donkey went on; 
then, as the wolf could not stop a groan of 
disgust, ‘it’ll cure you. All good medicine is 
nasty-tasting. Take a bite of it,’ and he kicked 
the turnip before the wolf. 

“It was a hard thing to do, but the wolf 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


73 

wanted to get the donkey to sleep again, so he 
took a bite of the turnip. 

“ ‘Woof, woof/ he coughed. ‘That’s the 
nastiest—’ 

“ ‘Didn’t I say it was ?’ asked the donkey. 
‘It’ll cure your sickness, though. Better take 
another bite before we go to. sleep.’ 

“The wolf took another bite. It was a very 
big bite, for he was so ugly that he was think¬ 
ing what a bite he would like to take out 
of that donkey. The donkey, began to make 
long, deep breaths, and once in a while he 
snored—though you will never find a donkey 
who will own up that he snores. By and by 
the wolf began to lick his cheeks again; then 
he raised his head. But it went down again 
pretty quickly. 

“That second bite of rutabaga turnip had 
been swallowed whole, and when it got down 
to where the first bite was, it began to press 
terribly. The wolf had indigestion. The 
howl he gave, set the rabbit and cur dog and 
partridge into another feet-drumming. 

“ ‘I’m sick,’ yelped the wolf. ‘That medi¬ 
cine’s making me sick.’ 

“He tried to get up, but his head was dizzy; 
then a frightful howl came from him. 


74 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


“ 'Keep still/ said the donkey with make-be¬ 
lieve sleepiness. 

" Tm burning all up—’ The wolf was 
really crying. 

“ Tt always acts that way/ the donkey said. 
'You’re coming on finely/ then he couldn’t 
keep his laugh in any longer, and he roared, 
'Ha, ha, ha! I’ll have you out pretty soon. I 
mean outdoors without a jack-rabbit supper. 
When you get home tell the children what a 
stupid fellow the donkey is; it’ll tickle them/ 

"The wolf had tried to get to his feet, but 
every time he fell. His eyes were like glass, 
but he could snarl at the donkey. By and by 
the donkey got the right measure and gave him 
an awful kick with his iron shoe, and he 
crawled out of the straw and toward the hole 
in the shed; then out into the night. 

" 'Oh, that was terrible/ said Mrs. Part¬ 
ridge. They were listening to the howls 
which grew fainter and fainter. 'If you 
weren’t the smartest donkey in the world my 
daughter Speckles’s chicks wouldn’t have any 
grandma now/ 

" 'That’s very good of you, ma’am/ the 
donkey returned. 'It’s the first time I ever 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


75 


heard any one say a donkey was smart. Now, 
let’s get to sleep again. I guess we won’t 
have any more visitors before sun-up/ 

“In the morning the sun peeped through 
cracks in the shed that the wind couldn’t find, 
and tickled the donkey’s neck until he awoke. 
It was a lovely morning. The wind had 
climbed into the clouds and ridden away, and 
the tree branches rested at last. Jack-rabbit 
went to the hole in the shed and looked out. 

“ ‘Oh, I know where I am,’ he shouted glee¬ 
fully. ‘There is Farmer Jones’s cabbage 
cache—” He covered his mouth with his paw, 
suddenly remembering that it isn’t polite to 
speak of other people’s food when you are vis¬ 
iting. 

• “The donkey pressed Mrs. Partridge to take 
a large piece of rutabaga turnip in her bill to 
her daughter Speckles’s chicks, then he bade 
them all, ‘good morning/ 

“ ‘You don’t think your master would own 
me, too, do you?’ the dog asked. ‘I’d bark 
real loud for him, and run and pick up sticks 
and such things—’ 

“ ‘You stay till he comes and then you do 
some tricks for him/ the kind donkey said. 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


7 6 

“By and by some shovelers were heard out¬ 
side, and pretty soon the door was thrown 
open, and in ran a little boy who went to the 
donkey and threw his arms about the shaggy 
neck. After a time he looked down and saw 
the cur dog. 

“ Tsn’t he a funny-looking little dog?’ the 
boy said, and stooped to pat him. T wonder 
where he came from/ 

“The dog thought that now was his time. 
He jumped away and brought a stick and 
dropped it at the boy’s feet. The boy threw 
it out into the snow and the dog went in all 
over for it. For a few minutes the boy had a 
fine time. 

“ Tf nobody comes after this cur dog I’m go¬ 
ing to keep him,’ he cried. ‘Mamma, bring 
out a bone, I’ve got a new dog/ 

“Nobody did come for the cur dog. In a 
week he had a collar on and his little master’s 
name was printed on the collar. Every day 
he had a bone with real meat on it, and at night 
he sat with his little master before the fire, so 
his dream came true. The donkey and the dog 
were always good friends, and the jack-rabbit 
and Mrs. Partridge came over often to visit 
them.” 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


77 

“Ed like to have that donkey to keep,” Paul 
said. “I guess Ed love him.” 

“He was a beauEful donkey,” Beth thought 
out loud. “My! I was ’most scared ’bout the 
wolf’s eyes in the dark.” 

“Did the poor doggie live with the little 
boy forever and ever?” Dorothy wanted to 
know. 

“Yes,” Uncle Jim answered. 

“P’r’aps there’s a next-night story ’bout the 
doggie,” Paul ventured. 

Uncle Jim laughed, and said: 

“Perhaps—some time.” 

In the silence which followed Paul got down 
from the arm of the chair. In a minute his 
head was in Auntie Lou’s lap. 

“Why, what’s the matter, dearie?” Auntie 
Lou asked. “You’re crying.” 

“I don’t want him—to go—away,” was the 
shaky answer. “I want him to stay till my 
papa and mamma comes. You tell him to 
stay.” It was a pitiful little face he turned to¬ 
ward her. 

“He means ‘ask him/ ” explained Weezy. 
“He always says ‘tell,’ but he means ‘ask.’ 
Don’t he, Dorothy?” 

“Yes,” Dorothy affirmed. “I can’t teach 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


78 

him any better. He don’t ’member. He for¬ 
gets quicker than I can tell him.” 

‘Tell him just one more next-night,” Paul 
pleaded. Auntie Lou’s face was very much 
flushed, as she said: 

“He wants me to ask you to tell just one 
more next-night.” 

“Well,” bargained Uncle Jim, “to-morrow 
is Saturday. I understand that school doesn’t 
keep Saturdays. If you will let me wire for 
my car and will promise—all of you—to let 
me take you on a picnic, there’ll be another 
story—” 

The sentence was never finished. The 
shout the children gave drowned his voice. 
All but Paul shouted. He looked anxiously 
at each of the grown people. 

“Please, auntie,” he whispered, throwing his 
arms about her neck, and when she nodded yes, 
“Papa Tom and Aunt Laura, please yes?” 

“Why,” said Aunt Laura, who was blushing 
prettily, too, and who looked a little surprised 
at Auntie Lou, “I think we can arrange it.” 

“It’s all right, Paul,” Papa Tom’s voice 
sounded cheerily. “Now, you all go to bed. 
There’ll be one more next-night story.” 






















FOURTH NIGHT 


W HAT a picnic that was! Uncle Jim 
drove the car and Papa Tom and 
Paul sat in front with him, while all 
the rest were behind; then the hamper full of 
things to eat came strapped on, ’way back. 
The children’s hats were off and their hair 
stood out straight in the wind. 

“I don’t believe trains could go so fast as 
this,” Dorothy said. She did not have to 
speak loud, either, because the car made 
hardly any noise. 

“When I get a big man I’ll come take you 
all to ride in a car,” Paul told his cousins, 
“and Beth will be on the front seat with me.” 

They went to Greenwood, and Uncle Jim 
made a fire as the Indians do and hung a 
kettle. Pretty soon the water was boiling, 
and Auntie Lou was making things, and 
Uncle Jim was helping her, and four children 
were tagging Uncle Jim around, while Papa 
Tom and Aunt Laura laughed and thought it 
81 


82 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


all a grand joke. When, finally they were 
eating, Weezy said to Auntie Lou: 

“Your cheeks is got an awful pretty red 
on/’ and Papa Tom and Aunt Laura laughed, 
and Paul said: 

“She is havin’ the goodest time, just like 
we is.” 

Somehow things got mixed when they rode 
home, and Auntie Lou was on the front seat 
with Uncle Jim and Paul, and Papa Tom and 
Aunt Laura and the three girl cousins were 
in behind, and there was a hamper tied still 
behind them with nothing but knives and 
forks and dishes in it. When they arrived 
home they had an early tea, because the chil¬ 
dren were “happy-tired,” Auntie Lou said; 
then they all went up to the den. 

“Auntie Lou can sit right down with us,” 
Dorothy arranged, as she brought a hassock. 

“That’ll be a fine idea,” Uncle Jim told 
them. Auntie Lou sat on the hassock right 
in front of Uncle Jim’s chair, and the girls 
gathered around her. Paul was like “a king 
who overlooked them from his chair-arm 
throne.” Auntie Lou said that, too. 

“It’s a very pretty picture,” Papa Tom said, 
and he laughed in a way that made Auntie 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 83 

Lou’s face color more. Uncle Jim then took 
all the attention by beginning: 

“This is a very nice story.” 

“Is the doggie in it?” Dorothy asked. 
“Remember rule one, which is 'no interrupt¬ 
ing/ ” Uncle Jim said. Dorothy’s cheeks 
were as red as Auntie Lou’s when Uncle Jim 
started again: 

“The name of this story is: 


THE FOX, THE RACCOON, AND THE 
BEAR 

UT T IGH upon a snow-covered ledge a 
I I fox stood and looked down into 
^ a ravine. His head was tipped 
sidewise, for he was listening. This is what 
he heard: 

“ ‘If you find anything in the forest that 
does not grow there, look out. The farmer 
is putting poison on a lot of things. He is 
going to poison the foxes that carry away his 


84 NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 

chickens, and the bears that steal the little 

pigs/ 

'The fox lapped his cheeks and gave a quick 
look up at the moon. The moon was the only 
thing that knew he was there, and he was ask¬ 
ing it not to tell of him. That look upward 
also said: 

“ ‘Yes, I got some of the chickens/ 

“Down in the ravine there was a beating of 
wings and a pawing of the snow. It was the 
farmer’s dog who had told the large crowd 
of birds and animals to look out for the poison, 
and they were thanking him, just as we clap 
our hands when we are pleased. By and by 
some one else, down in the ravine, spoke. It 
was Mrs. Grouse. 

“ ‘Could I say something?’ she asked. 

“ ‘Of course you can/ replied the dog. ‘We 
want everybody to say something/ 

“ ‘Well, I want to get up a vote of thanks 
to the kind dog. I know that he has led the 
gunners away from my nest more than once. 
I’ve often wondered how he became such a 
good friend to us/ 

“It was such a long speech that Mrs. 
Grouse was red in the face and quite out of 
breath. 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 85 

“ ‘Oh, yes! Do tell us !’ Mrs. Turkey Buz¬ 
zard was talking now. Tve wanted to know 
ever so long, but I can’t speak in meeting 
worth a hull of corn.’ 

“ ‘Well/ began the dog, who was much 
pleased because they seemed so fond of him, 
‘when I was nothing but a cur dog I was taken 
in one very cold night by my master’s little 
boy’s donkey. The little boy took me for his 
dog the next day. I know how animals can 
suffer, so I feel sorry for them; but I have the 
best master in the world, and I look out for 
whai belongs to him.’ 

“The beating of wings and pawing of snow 
sounded louder than ever. All of a sudden 
the fox up on the ledge leaned away out, and 
listened harder than before. Miss Raccoon 
was speaking, down in the ravine. 

“ ‘I don’t see how our bears can be after 
pigs now/ she said. ‘They have gone into 
their winter sleep. We’re going to sleep our¬ 
selves just as soon as papa gets cleared up 
around our new burrow. The woodchucks 
have shut their doors for the season, so it 
wouldn’t be any use for any one to go calling 
on them.’ 

“ ‘Are you ever bothered by foxes when 


86 NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 

you’re walking out in the evening, Miss Rac¬ 
coon ?’ 

“The dog asked it, and he had his head 
tipped one side as if he was very much inter¬ 
ested. 

“ 'O dear, yes F was the reply. 'Sometimes 
they chase me all the way home.’ 

“ 'I’ll walk home with you to-night if you 
don’t mind,’ the dog said. 

“Mrs. Turkey Buzzard snickered. 

“'Well, isn’t that nice of him?’ she re¬ 
marked to Mrs. Owl. 

“Mrs. Owl closed one of her great eyes, 
and answered: 

“ 'I always said that a raccoon was able to 
take care of herself. I guess the dog wants 
to go home with her.’ 

“Up on the ledge the fox punched his paw 
into the snow. He was very angry. He had 
made up his mind that he would eat that little 
raccoon when he caught her going home, but 
the dog had stopped that. The fox was very 
surly, as he backed away from the top of the 
ledge and trotted off to his burrow. 

“The next morning the fox came to the 
door of his burrow and took a long breath 
of the air that the sun had only commenced 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 87 

to take the frost out of. He was hungry 
enough now. He was cross, too, for he had 
come to think that he had looked at the new 
moon over his left shoulder the night before, 
and that was why he had had such bad luck. 

“ T wish that six or eight wolves and a 
dozen foxes would get together and kill that 
farmer’s dog/ he growled. T wish I was one 
of those animals that can go to sleep for all 
winter. I tried it, but it’s no use. I get so 
hungry I keep waking up/ 

“The sun rose higher in the sky and sent 
down its warmth and the fox felt more cheer¬ 
ful. After a while he trotted away. Some 
time later the little raccoon that the dog had 
walked home with last night, had a visitor. 
She was up in the top of a tree sound asleep 
when she heard a voice, soft and singy. 

“ 'Good morning, dear Miss Raccoon/ 
“Miss Raccoon was startled. She darted 
in through a hole on the limb. It was the 
door to her summer home. 

“The fox knew that she did not want him 
there, but he did not care for that. He be¬ 
gan to sing. He knew that if he made a noise 
long enough she would come out again if only 
to tell him to keep still. She did come out. 


88 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


“ ‘Stop that awful noise/ she called. 

“ ‘Oh, Miss Raccoon/ the fox answered in 
a very whiny voice, ‘I’m only an honest ani¬ 
mal that works hard for a living, but I can’t 
help telling you how much I think of you. 
Can’t you come down and cheer me up a little 
because I’m poor and haven’t any nice, warm 
coat for this cold weather?’ 

“Miss Raccoon came away out into the 
crotch of the tree. She was laughing because 
she knew every fox has a fine warm winter 
coat. She was quite plump, and she made the 
fox so hungry that he had to turn away his 
face to lick his cheeks. 

“ ‘Why/ said Miss Raccoon, in a voice 
which was so sweet that the fox jumped up 
and down in hungry excitement, ‘if it isn’t 
Mr. Fox!’ 

“ ‘Yes, lovely Miss Raccoon, it’s poor Mr. 
Fox. Oh, I do think an awful lot of you.’ 

“ ‘Oh, do you really ?’ she asked, as if she 
was interested; then changing her voice to 
have it sound as if she were afraid he would 
get hurt, ‘Look out for the poison, Mr. Fox.’ 

“The fox jumped in fright. He knew 
about the poison that the farmer was spread¬ 
ing around, but he didn’t want her to know 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 89 

he was on the ledge last night, and had heard 
everything, so he said, as soon as he could 
speak: 

“ ‘Why, what do you mean, dear Miss Rac¬ 
coon ?’ 

“ ‘The farmer put it there/ she explained. 
'Look out!’ The fox jumped higher. 'Don’t 
go frontways—don’t go sideways—don’t 
stand still!’ 

"At every 'don’t’ the fox jumped again. 
He was worried and frightened and hungry 
all at the same time, so he began to think that 
a root of some old tree would do for his 
breakfast if he could get away safely from that 
poison place. He picked his way gingerly, 
though Miss Raccoon kept crying: 

" 'Look out! Look out!’ 

"The fox went back to his burrow. He 
was savagely hungry, so he ate some roots. 
He went to sleep, but his dreams made him 
fidgety. He dreamed that Miss Raccoon was 
down out of her tree, and that when she went 
back she would stay all winter. He awoke 
with a snarl and started for her home again. 

"Miss Raccoon had not expected another 
visit so soon. She had come down to the 
ground and had wandered quite a distance, 


90 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


for food was very scarce. She was coming 
back and saw the fox. She knew he would 
soon begin circling around the tree, so she 
lay down in the snow and curled her claws up. 

“The fox called for some time, and not get¬ 
ting any answer, began to thrash his tail in 
anger; then he commenced to circle. Round 
and round he went, each time making the 
circle a little larger until at last he came 
straight in front of the raccoon. 

“First the fox gave a surprised pounce for¬ 
ward, then he stopped, and sniffed, and sprang 
back. 

“ 'She’s poisoned,’ he shouted. 'The silly 
thing came down just as I dreamed and now 
she’s all swelled up with poison. Oh, I wish 
I’d fought that farmer’s dog and eaten her last 
night!’ 

“Suddenly he thought that he had been run¬ 
ning around in all the poison, and he started 
for home; but he stopped again soon. Some 
one was shouting. He looked back and saw 
Miss Raccoon running up her tree. 

“ 'Oh, oh, oh!’ Miss Raccoon was scream¬ 
ing in laughter. 'This makes me think of 
what Mrs. Owl said last night. She said a 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


9i 

raccoon could take pretty good care of her¬ 
self.’ 

“The fox slunk away into the forest. He 
rubbed his head in astonishment. He had al¬ 
ways thought he was a pretty smart fox, but 
he had to say that a raccoon was smarter. 
He was pretty ugly, and he thought out a plan 
which might give him a taste of raccoon after 
all. 

“He was walking on all this while, and by 
and by he came to a side-hill. There was a 
hole in the hill with great rocks in front. He 
pushed one of the rocks aside and went into 
the hole. 

“When he was inside quite a distance he 
stumbled over something in the dark. It was 
something soft, all curled up in a ball. 

“ 'Hello!’ he shouted; then as there was no 
answer, 'Hello! Hello! Wake up here! 
the farmer’s coming!’ 

“A sleepy voice answered: 

“ 'It isn’t warm weather yet, is it ?’ 

“ 'Warm weather!’ shouted the fox, 'it’ll be 
warm enough if you don’t get out of here 
pretty quick. The farmer is coming to shoot 
you for eating his pigs/ 


9 2 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


“Pretty soon two animals came out of the 
hole. The other was a sleepy, baby bear. 
The bear was scared half out of his wits. 

“ 'Oh, my sakes !’ he sniveled, 'what’ll I do, 
Mr. Fox? You’re so cunning you know what 
to do always. O dear me, I don’t want to be 
shot! I’m only a young bear yet/ 

" 'I only heard of it just a little while ago/ 
the fox said. 'I came to tell you before you 
got sound asleep/ 

" 'Oh, you’re very good/ whined the bear; 
'only if I’d got sound asleep I wouldn’t have 
known it if the farmer shot me. Oh, it must 
hurt like sixty to be shot! You’ll save me, 
won’t you, Mr. Fox?’ 

u 'Of course I will,’ the fox told him. 
'We’ll go down and warn Miss Raccoon. 
She’s a friend of mine, too. You can climb 
up in her tree and tell her all about it. She’s 
so scared that she won’t come down even if 
I tell her to/ 

" T can’t climb very well/ the bear said. 
'I’m too sleepy. Is it a very high tree?’ 

" 'It’s pretty high, but don’t you mind about 
going high. You’ll be low enough if the 
farmer gets hold of you.’ 

“The bear followed along, stumbling over 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


93 

the frozen hummocks. The fox encouraged 
him. 

“ Tm glad I came and told you in time. 
The farmer will be out after you to-morrow/ 

“ Tf I wasn’t so sleepy I’d feel braver/ the 
poor, frightened bear answered. 'My coat 
seems very thin to be out in such cold 
weather/ 

“ 'You won’t have any coat at all, if the 
farmer gets you,’ snapped the fox. 'Hurry 
up!’ 

"The bear began to trot like a very awkward 
cow. 

"It was so very still in the forest that sounds 
could be heard a long way, and the raccoon, 
who was taking a sun-bath, knew when they 
came near her tree. She ran into her door¬ 
way and listened. 

" 'I’ll hide behind this rock/ she heard the 
fox say. 'You go up the tree, that one over 
there, and when you get a chance to grab her, 
throw her down to me. I want to save her 
from the farmer, you know, and she’s too 
scared to let me. Don’t come away from her 
door till she comes out. You’ll be safe up 
there. The farmer will never think to look 
there for you.’ 


94 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


“The fox had talked .very fast. He was 
thinking of what he was going to have to eat 
pretty soon. The little raccoon’s snout was 
thrust out of her door when the bear began 
to climb. 

“The bear made a great noise, puffing and 
blowing, and yawning. He was so sleepy 
that he would forget what he was trying to 
do, and his claws would let go of the tree and 
he would come down to the ground with a 
BUMP. The raccoon saw it all, and she had 
to go inside her house to laugh. 

“From behind the rock the fox saw the bear 
BUMP three times. He was lashing his tail 
about and saying spiteful things; but when 
the bear BUMPED the fourth time the fqx 
rushed forward and gave him a good bite. 

“ Tf you fall down again/ he shouted, for¬ 
getting, in his rage, that he didn’t want the 
raccoon to know he was there, Til let the 
farmer catch you/ 

“The poor bear tried again, and this time 
went past the tumble-down place. 

“ ‘Now, you’re getting on,’ the fox said en¬ 
couragingly. 

“The bear scrambled hard and hung on 
tightly, and after a while got almost to the rac- 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


95 


coon’s Hoor. His eyes were half-shut, 
though, and he did not see a little paw that 
reached out and then, quick as anything, 
tickled him right under his arm. 

“ 'Oh, Heeeeeeee!’ roared the bear, all 
awakened. 'What was that?’ 

"He was shaking and holding hard on the 
limb of the tree, but something very queer 
happened immediately. The raccoon gave 
him an awful scratch in the face, and his 
claws loosened on the limb. The next thing 
he knew he was hanging down from the limb, 
with the claws of all four feet dug into the 
bark. 

" 'Here/ he bellowed, 'boost me! I’m 
hanging like something out to dry. I’m 
wrong side up!’ 

" 'Stop your noise,’ the fox shouted. 
'You’ll bring the farmer over here.’ 

"'Oh, is that you, Mr. Fox?’ the bear 
roared louder than ever. He was so much 
awake that he remembered everything. 'I 
can’t get the raccoon, because I’m wrong end 
up.’ 


" 'Well, get right end up, then/ the fox 
shouted back. He was in an awful rage. 

" 'I can’t get right end up,’ howled the bear. 


96 NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 

" 'Then come down/ snapped the fox. 

“ T can’t come down. My claws are stuck 
in so deep they won’t come out.’ 

" 'Then stay where you are/ The fox saw 
that his plan to get the raccoon had failed. 
He began to circle the tree and lash his tail 
about. 

" 'I can’t stay where I am/ the bear whined. 
'I’m spinning around in my head. O dear, 
I can’t get up, I can’t come down, and I can’t 
stay where I am!’ 

" 'Why, what’s the trouble out here ?’ asked 
Miss Raccoon, making believe that she had 
just woke up. Why, what a funny thing this 
is hanging to our tree! Is it you, Mr. Fox?’ 

"'No, it isn’t Mr. Fox!’ roared the bear. 
'I wish it was.’ 

" 'Stop your noise/ snapped the fox. He 
had not heard Miss Raccoon speak. 

"Miss Raccoon was so high in the tree that 
she could see all over the valley, and just at 
that minute she saw the farmer and his dog 
leave the farmhouse on a run. She reached 
out and gave the bear another tickle, and the 
roar that followed made the trees shake. 

" 'Oh, you quit/ was what the bear said. 



“Here, boost me! I’m wrong side up! ” 


Page 95 








































































NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


97 

'Stop it! Don't! DON’T—heeeeeeeeee— 

Don't tickle me!' 

"The raccoon looked down in the valley 
again. The dog and the farmer were quite 
near, and a little boy on a donkey was also 
coming. She made the bear roar once more. 

“ Til bite you all over for howling so,' the 
fox shouted. Til—' 

"The farmer's dog jumped through the 
thicket and had the fox by the throat when the 
farmer got there. The farmer tied the fox 
tightly; then, looking up, saw the hanging 
bear. He was sighting for a shot which would 
kill, when the little boy came up on his 
donkey. 

" 'Don't shoot him, papa,' cried the little 
fellow. 'Get him alive, and I'll teach him to 
do tricks.' 

"That saved the bear's life. The farmer 
climbed the tree and made a rope basket under 
the bear, and when he came down he pulled 
on the rope and the bear was able to get his 
claws out of the tree; then the farmer lowered 
him to the ground. He was walking into the 
brush without even saying 'thank you,' when 
he was stopped by coming to the end of the 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


98 

rope and tHe farmer soon had him tightly 
bound and loaded onto the donkey's back. 

“The farmer threw the fox over his own 
broad shoulder, and started to go back home. 
The little boy suddenly shouted^ 

“ T spy a fat little raccoon asleep in the 
tree F then he ran after his father, singing hap- 
pily. 

“The little raccoon was not sleeping. She 
was looking and smiling. A big white owl 
was sitting in the top of a tree a little way off. 
The owl could not see because it was daylight. 
The owl was thinking, though, and it thought 
that a raccoon could take care of herself even 
if a fox was after her." 



FIFTH NIGHT 



S 

l 


* 

i 


» » 


% 

> 

■> 


■» 


*> 


> 


























FIFTH NIGHT 

NCLE JIM’S car was in the barn 
when the children came out-of-doors 



the next morning, and there was Uncle 
Jim in a long duster, fixing it. 

“You’re not goin’ away, be you?” Paul 
asked, but the three girls got up into the big 
back seat without hearing any answer. Paul’s 
natural persistence led him to say: 

“Paul don’t tease a bit. He’s goin’ to have 
some candy for not teasin’ you to stay, and 
he’ll give you some.” 

Uncle Jim’s nod was an acknowledgment 
of the courtesy and the generosity shown. 
Paul went on: 

“There’s goin’ to be a next-night to-day, 
won’t they? Paul telled Auntie Lou he telled 
you not to be cross to her no more and she 
telled Aunt Laura that you could stay ’cause 
it didn’t make any dif-runce—” 

Uncle Jim had dropped his hammer. He 
was sitting flat on the ground and he looked 
so interested that Paul went on: 


IOI 


102 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


“She said that Papa Tom liked you if no¬ 
body else don’t, but Paul likes you, and he 
wants another next-night story.” 

“But perhaps you made a mistake and did 
not hear your Auntie Lou say I might stay,” 
Uncle Jim told him. 

Paul called his cousins, for verification. 

“Paul didn’t tease a bit,” he informed them; 
“on’y he just telled him what you telled me 
Auntie Lou telled.” 

“Oh, Paul,” Beth’s face was serious, “you 
didn’t ought to.” 

“Well, I didn’t,” his face flushed. “I on’y 
telled that Auntie Lou didn’t bother if he 
stayed—” 

“She didn’t say so,” put in Dorothy. “We 
told you that Uncle Jim could stay ’cause 
Auntie Lou said Papa wanted him so much 
and she didn’t mind at all, ’cause the ice was 
broke and she didn’t get wet feet. She isn’t 
going to run off to Mrs. Mayburry’s like she 
said she would.” 

“An’ you isn’t goin’ to be cross to her no 
more, is you ?” Paul asked the new uncle. 

There was a noise at the big door. Papa 
Tom was there and he had heard. Paul ran 
to him, with a very red face. 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


103 

“I didn’t tease him once,” the little fellow 
asserted, stoutly. 

Papa Tom said to Uncle Jim: 

“That quartet will fix it all for you, Jim. 
I’m sure of it. You let things float along with 
the tide for a day or two and I’ll guarantee 
you’ll land everything you want.” 

“Do you think you can bring the entire fam¬ 
ily to the story to-night, if there is one?” 
Uncle Jim asked the children. 

“We’s sure to,” was the clamorous answer. 

There was a next-night story that evening, 
and all the family were present. The older 
folk seemed almost as interested as the chil¬ 
dren, as Uncle Jim began: 

“The name of this story is: 


THE DWARFS 

u \ LONG time ago a little boy sat in 
the sand in front of his father’s 
house, down by the sea, and the 
neighbors who passed, stopped to hear him 
sing. 


104 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


“ ‘It's wonderful/ they all said. ‘He has 
a strange gift. He sings better than people 
who have studied for years/ 

“By and by, people who lived outside the 
town heard of the boy's singing, until travelers 
turned out of their ways to visit the place, just 
because a little boy singer lived there. 

“The boy's father was a fisherman, but when 
the boy was five years old so much money was 
left at the cottage by the delighted people who 
called there that the father did not fish any 
more, but lived at his ease. The boy did not 
know why he was clothed better. He only 
knew that he loved to sing and to be petted 
by the ladies and gentlemen who called to see 
him. 

“One day a tall, dark man came, and he was 
so pleased that he stayed in the neighborhood 
a good while. He did more than listen, he 
showed the boy how to use his throat to make 
even more pleasing notes. 

“The simple parents were delighted. 

“ ‘Carl is only twelve years old,' they said, 
‘and this kind man will make him sing so that 
even the birds will be ashamed of their notes. 
He will make us rich.' 

“The tall dark man began to take the boy 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 105 

on visits about the country, near by, and he 
would bring back handfuls of gold and silver 
—but one day the man did what he had come 
to do. He stole the boy, and the parents never 
saw him again. 

“The father searched up and down the coun¬ 
try until all the gold and silver was gone, then 
he had to take to fishing once more, and he 
was a sad and broken man. 

“I am going to tell you what happened to 
the boy. He was taken aboard a ship and 
sailed for days and days. He was pleased 
with the new things he saw, for the man was 
kind to him at this time. Whenever he asked 
about his father and mother the man would 
answer: 

“ When you get back home they will be 
proud because you can tell them so much about 
the world/ 

“But every day they went farther and 
farther from the little town where the cottage 
stood in the sand down by the sea. 

“After a time the boy sang in large halls and 
the man was still kind to him, but there came 
a time when the man became cruel, and beat 
the boy, and the boy was afraid of him. 

“One night the boy had been telling some 


io6 NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 

kind ladies about the home he had almost for¬ 
gotten, and the man heard him. 

“When they were alone the man whipped 
the boy terribly and made him go to bed with¬ 
out any supper. The tired little fellow sobbed 
himself to sleep, and in a dream he saw his 
mother, who held out her arms to him and 
looked pityingly on him and told him to run 
away from the cruel man. 

“The dream seemed so real that when the 
boy awakened he was frightened at first. He 
had never thought of going from the man be¬ 
fore, but now he got out of bed and crept down 
the stairs and out into the night. 

“It was very late, but a bright moonlight 
was on everything. At first the boy walked 
fast through the streets of the city, looking 
back every once in a while to see that the man 
was not following, but at last he began to run. 

“While he ran, new thoughts were going 
through his head. He felt a courage he had 
never known, and he told himself he would 
never take another beating. He would not be 
carried back to the man. He would find the 
ladies who were so kind to him and tell them 
he wanted to go back to the little house in the 
sand by the sea. 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


107 


“He was very hungry but he kept on run¬ 
ning. He had come out of the city, and there 
was a great wood everywhere about him— 
then he stopped running, for he was sure the 
man could not find him now. 

“The place the boy had come to was in the 
foothills of a great range of mountains. 
They were called the 'Enchanted Mountains’ 
and there were many stories of the strange 
things which the old folks said used to happen 
there. 

“The tired boy knew nothing of these stories. 
He kept on until he was too tired to go farther, 
and finally, he came to a clearing in the wood, 
where the bright light of the moon showed him 
some berries. He was soon eating, and when 
he was no longer hungry he lay in the moon¬ 
light to sleep. 

“He was happier than he had been for a 
long time, because he thought that he would 
go farther away in the morning, and the man 
would never think of looking for him in such 
a place. 

“As he lay there thinking, his heart became 
so glad that he sang, as he used to sing, when 
he was in the sand by the sea. 

“It was a wonderful song he sang. Even 


108 NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 

the moon stopped on its journey across the sky 
to listen, and the song of the whippoorwill 
was stilled. Something else was stopped by 
the song, but the boy did not know it for he had 
sung himself to sleep. 

“Ten little dwarfs who had been passing 
through the wood heard the song, and came to 
the edge of the clearing, where from behind 
the large tree-trunks they listened until the 
song had taken the boy into sleep-land; then 
they tiptoed, tiptoed out and stood in a circle 
looking down at the pretty fellow. 

“Funny little chaps were those dwarfs. 
Each had a pointed cap and a pointed beard. 
If the boy were standing up, the top of their 
caps would come about up to his shoulders. 
They had short legs and twinkling eyes, and 
they were the spryest fellows you could think 
of. 

“Every few minutes the little fellows would 
look at one another, and smile, and nod, which 
showed that they were good and happy, and 
at last one took off his coat and put it over 
the boy’s feet. 

“The other nine dwarfs did just what the 
first had done, and the coats of all of them 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


109 

make quite a good blanket for the boy; then 
the dwarfs disappeared into the wood. 

“When the boy awoke the next morning he 
could not understand what was keeping him so 
warm until he saw the blanket. At first he 
Was frightened, for he thought the man had 
found him and had covered him up so that the 
cold would not stop his singing, but when he 
found that ten little jackets were the things 
that covered him, he was puzzled enough. 
Happening to look up from the jackets, he saw 
a dwarf standing in front of him, nodding and 
smiling. 

“The boy passed one of the jackets to the 
dwarf and he put it on. The jacket fitted 
nicely. 

“ ‘Who are you ?’ the boy asked. 

“Not a word from the dwarf, but he nodded, 
and smiled. 

“ ‘Can't you speak ?’ the boy wanted to know. 

“The dwarf shook his head—‘no.' 

“ ‘He can hear all right/ the boy said to 
himself, and immediately the dwarf smiled 
ten times harder, and the boy was afraid he 
would nod his head off. 

“ ‘Who owns all these other jackets?’ 


no 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


"The dwarf pointed to the wood, and the 
boy counted nine jackets, so he knew that there 
were ten of them in all. The dwarf now be¬ 
gan to rub his stomach and to go through 
the motion of feeding himself, and the boy 
knew that he was being asked if he were hun¬ 
gry- 

“ 'Why/ he answered. Tm awfully hun¬ 
gry. Come on and eat some breakfast with 
me. There's a lot of berries—' 

"But the dwarf had put his hand on the boy's 
arm and was shaking his head, pointed cap and 
all. Then with a comical wink, and a nod 
and a smile, he ran toward the woods. 

"Not knowing that these were the enchanted 
woods, the boy was pretty well surprised at all 
of this, but a minute later he was more sur¬ 
prised. Out of the woods came the ten of 
them. The first carried three sticks which he 
crossed at their tops as quickly as scat, and then 
he spread their legs and stuck them into the 
ground. The boy called this dwarf 'Cross- 
Sticks.' 

"In the wink-of-an-eye’s time the second 
dwarf was down between the spreading legs 
of the sticks and he had built a fire. The boy 
called him, 'Fire.' 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


hi 


“Another dwarf hung a kettle over the fire 
and hitched it to where the sticks were joined 
together. He was 'Kettle/ 

“And so it went. The boy named the 
dwarfs from what they brought and there were 
'Spider’ and 'Skillet’ and 'Knife and Fork’ and 
'Cup and Saucer’ and 'Plate’ and 'Pepper and 
Salt.’ The last dwarf came lugging a long 
coil of rope, and of course he was named 
'Rope.’ 

“Never was there such scampering about 
as those dwarfs made in the next few minutes. 
The cooking food smelled so nice that the boy 
could hardly wait. He liked the busy little 
fellows very much, and they made him laugh 
by their spry antics. When breakfast was 
ready they all acted as waiters, bringing him 
everything—but they would not eat them¬ 
selves until he had finished. 

“When breakfast was over for all, and the 
dishes were washed, 'Kettle,’ who was the first 
dwarf that had appeared that morning, stood 
in front of the boy, while all the rest looked 
on. 

“Putting his hands on his hips and raising 
his face to the sky, he kept opening his mouth 
and shutting it, until the boy knew he was be- 


1 12 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


ing asked to sing to pay for the fine breakfast 
he had eaten. 

“ ‘Of course I will/ the boy answered. He 
really liked these strange little men. 

“All the dwarfs sat on the ground in a 
half-circle before the boy, their hands on their 
knees and their bright faces looking as if they 
expected a great treat—and they got a treat. 

“The boy never had sung so well as he did 
then. Peal on peal of song rang through 
those woods, until the day-birds came and 
mounted on the boughs of the trees to hear. 
Song after song the boy sang, and even the 
wind stopped moving the branches so that 
there should be no other sound in the wood. 
It was glorious. 

“In the midst of it all ‘Cross-Sticks 5 hap¬ 
pened to turn his head. Then a very strange 
thing happened. ‘Cross-Sticks 5 jumped to his 
feet with such a whine as a frightened puppy 
dog would make, and then the other nine 
turning their heads suddenly jumped up too 
and all began to whine. 

“Before the boy could think what it was all 
about, the dwarfs were tugging at him to get 
him to stand up, and when he did stand up 
‘Cross-Sticks 5 was behind him, holding on to 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 113 

his coat, and ‘Knife and Fork’ was behind 
‘Cross-Sticks’ and ‘Salt and Pepper’ was be¬ 
hind ‘Knife and Fork,’ and ‘Skillet’ came next, 
and so on until all the dwarfs were in a line 
behind the boy, and all were whining and 
shifting on their feet uneasily, and all were 
showing great fright. 

“The boy looked up the clearing and saw 
what had frightened the dwarfs. The stran¬ 
gest thing he had ever thought of was coming 
toward them. 

“It had a body as big as a barrel and shaped 
like one. A long neck looked like a stove¬ 
pipe with three joints in it, and a head as 
large as a boy’s football had a tuft of feathers 
which at a distance might be taken for a man’s 
tall hat. The thing had an enormous beak 
and around its eyes there were two black rings 
which looked like spectacles. Fat legs and 
great sprawling feet finished the thing. It 
was coming down the clearing at a very 
awkward pace, and every few clumsy steps 
it would say: 

“ ‘I gotcha! I gotcha! Get off the en¬ 
chanted mountain!’ 

“The boy was puzzled enough. Here was 
a place where men could not talk, but big birds 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


114 

could. He was brought to the present trouble 
by the dwarfs’ unhappiness. Suddenly catch¬ 
ing up the long rope he tore his jacket tails 
out of 'Cross-Stick’s’ hands and stepped out 
before the thing which was coming. 

"The dwarfs with an extra moan of terror 
fell to the ground, on which they hid their 
faces, while they began to kick with their 
toes. 

When the coming thing saw the boy stand¬ 
ing bravely out in front of him, it stopped, 
very much surprised. Then it cocked its 
head to one side and looked almost foolish. 

" 'Doncha know me ? Doncha know me ?’ 
it said. 

"The dwarfs were not looking for anything 
like this, for they stopped their moaning and 
kicking, and watched. 

" 'No!’ the boy replied, and he acted pretty 
brave; 'I don’t know you and I don’t want to 
know you!’ 

"The dwarfs looked from one to the other, 
their faces showing surprise. 

" 'I’m the enchanted gander/ the bird ex¬ 
plained. 'You oughter run when I say "I 
gotcha!”’ 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


US 

“ 'Well, I’m not going to run/ was the boy’s 
answer. 

"He had been tying a loop in the end of the 
rope, and now while the gander was looking 
as if it wished it had stayed at home to-day, 
he slipped a noose and in a minute the gander’s 
head was in it. 

“ 'Here/ squawked the gander. 'Whatcha 
doin’ ? Squawk! Squawk!’ 

"Each squawk sounded more uncomfortable, 
for the boy was pulling on the rope and chok¬ 
ing the gander. 

"But what about the dwarfs at this time. 
They were upon their feet dancing and laugh¬ 
ing and cutting all kinds of capers from joy. 
But when the boy threw himself on the 
gander’s back, and made the bird go through 
his paces, those dwarfs slapped their short 
legs with their small hands and laughed un¬ 
til some of them fell over backwards. Others 
went up to the gander and punched it with their 
fists and pulled its feathers, and all showed 
that they were much pleased at what had 
taken place. By and by the boy got tired of 
riding and hitched the gander to a tree. 
Every once in a while the gander would look 


n6 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


around and wink, and be awfully silly, as -he 
tried to get the boy to let him go. 

“It was a great event, the taming of the 
gander. The dwarfs showed the boy that it 
was, by their every movement. At last 
‘Skillet’ made a sign that they were to leave 
that spot, and also made a sign that they all 
wished the boy to go with them. 

“ Til go,’ the boy answered. ‘I haven’t any 
home.’ 

“So they gathered up the things and started 
on a march. The boy rode the enchanted 
gander, and behind him sat, ‘Pepper and Salt’ 
and ‘Cross-Sticks’ and ‘Knife and Fork.’ 
‘Kettle’ and the others went ahead. 

“All that day they marched. When the 
gander became tired, it would sniffle and say: 

“‘Friday’s an unlucky day! I wish I’d 
stayed at home!’ 

“But when the boy gave it a good sharp 
crack with a stick he carried, the gander 
would become angry, and say: 

“ ‘Wait till the wild pony hears of this. 
He’ll fix you!’ 

Always when this was said the dwarfs 
would look very much afraid and those on the 
gander’s back would begin to moan. 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


ii 7 

“The boy knew that they were always go¬ 
ing up, and up. When night came they 
stopped. The boy tied the gander to a tree, 
and the dwarfs made a fire and got supper; 
then they went to sleep, the gander and all, 
they were so tired. 

“In the morning breakfast was ready before 
the boy awoke. When he rubbed his eyes and 
looked about he was trying to make himself 
think it was all a dream, but no! There was 
the gander winking away, and trying to show 
that he would be good if some one would only 
let him loose. 

“The boy ate his breakfast, and the dwarfs 
had theirs; then the dishes were washed, and 
the dwarfs seated themselves in a half-circle, 
waiting for the boy to begin singing. 

“And how the boy did sing! He knew that 
he was free, and that is enough to make any 
one sing. Even the grass listened, and sev¬ 
eral times the gander wiped its spectacles 
with its foot. All of a sudden a strange noise 
disturbed the listening air. The dwarfs 
leaped to their feet and commenced to do the 
same as they did when the gander came among 
them, only they were more frightened. 

“ ‘Clumpity, clumpity, clumpity, clumpity—’ 


n8 NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 

came the noise, and at last the boy saw the 
wild pony, that the gander had spoken of. 

“It was a terrible beast, this wild pony. 
The breath which came from its nose and 
mouth looked like smoke. Its mane looked 
like spikes, while its tail had teeth like a 
garden rake. 

“The boy shook off the dwarfs, and catch¬ 
ing up a knife cut the rope, leaving the gander 
tied; then stepping out where the wild pony 
was coming, he waited. 

“Down the hill came the pony. Nothing 
had ever stood before it. But the boy was 
pretty brave-looking. Suddenly the pony 
broke its steady ‘clumpity, clumpity’ and be¬ 
gan to waltz and act as if it had just come out 
to enjoy itself and hadn’t seen anything out 
of the ordinary, anyway. 

“ ‘Who are you ?’ the boy called. 

“The wild pony saw the gander motion¬ 
ing with its foot to cut away while there was 
time, but the boy saw it, too; so when the pony 
turned around with a gladsome swish of its 
rake-like tail, and said, ‘You’ll excuse me, 
won’t you, if I don’t leave my name ?’ and made 
a break to run off, the boy was too quick for 
him, and had the rope about his neck. 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 119 

“The astonished dwarfs were now on their 
feet, and were making little squeals to en¬ 
courage the boy. The boy did not need any 
help. He was on that pony’s back, and the 
pony was carrying him around, just as gentle 
as any other pony could be. You see, when a 
boy touches an enchanted thing’s back the en¬ 
chantment is all gone and it has to mind. 

“Those dwarfs were the happiest things you 
can think of. They punched the pony and the 
gander, and played leap-frog over their backs; 
then there was supper and bed, and morning, 
all coming in their turn. 

“In the morning there was a breakfast and 
singing, but nothing happened to frighten 
anybody. They were off on a march again, 
the boy and four of the dwarfs on the wild 
pony’s back and four dwarfs on the gander’s 
back; and 'Skillet’ and 'Fire’ led the way. 

“That night they stopped before the mouth 
of a cavern. The pony and gander were 
tightly tied, and the boy followed the dwarfs 
into the cavern. 

“It was very dark within, but the dwarfs 
did not allow the boy to trip or stumble. 
They walked a long time, and finally there be¬ 
gan to be some light which grew and grew 


120 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


until everything was all aglow and the boy 
looked on thousands and thousands of dwarfs 
who were working on red-hot iron, shaping 
it and making it into many things. There 
was a clatter of tiny hammers pounding the 
iron, and the little sprites were running 
around close to the hot metal as if they were 
not a bit afraid; then this was all over with, 
for 'Skillet’ and 'Kettle’ took the boy, and 
carried him into the dark again. 

"When they next stopped they were a long 
way from the melted iron. 'Skillet’ stayed 
with the boy, but 'Kettle’ went in behind a big 
door. When he returned he took the boy’s 
hand and led him in behind the big door. 

"The boy stared. Never such magnificence 
as this had come into his mind before. He 
was in the presence of the king and queen of 
the dwarfs. 

"Around him were dwarf gentlemen and 
ladies in waiting, and all were dressed in 
beautiful costumes. The boy had to pass 
through them on his way to the king’s throne. 

"The dwarf king stood before him, and 
spoke. 

" 'I hear that you have tamed the enchanted 
gander,’ he said. 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


121 


“ ‘Yes, sire!* the boy answered. 

“ ‘And you have tamed the wild pony?’ 

“ ‘Yes, sire!* 

“ ‘You are a brave boy, and what you ask 
at our hands shall be given you. The gander 
ate my dwarfs and the pony trampled them 
to death. It will be done never again, for you 
have trained them. If you could kill the 
dragon, and release my beautiful daughter 
from her enchantment, I would give her to 
you as your wife and you should be prime 
minister of my kingdom, with so much money 
that you would not know what to do with it, 
and all the power you wanted/ 

“ ‘I will kill the dragon for you, sire/ the 
boy said. 

“Immediately the ten dwarfs who had 
brought him up the mountain began clapping 
their hands and they nodded so vigorously 
that the king and queen felt very good in¬ 
deed, for they knew the dwarfs were declar¬ 
ing that the boy could take care of the dragon 
or anything else that might come along. 

“So it was settled that the boy was to at¬ 
tack the dragon the next day, and after a 
banquet and music by the dwarf band, the 
boy sang to the thousands and thousands of 


122 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


dwarfs, then he was left to himself in a room 
where even the couch was made of gold. 

“The boy thought and thought of the great 
work he was to attempt on the morrow, and he 
laid his plans. He went out to the mouth 
of the cavern, and finding a heavy piece of 
wood made it into a shape to suit him; then 
he went to bed. 

“That next day is the most important in 
the history of dwarfdom. Iron-workers, gold- 
workers, gentlemen and ladies-in-waiting— 
the king and queen—everybody, was out on 
the plain in front of the entrance of the cav¬ 
ern. All were examining the gander and 
wild pony as if they had been curiosities. Not 
a dwarf except the king and queen could 
speak. 

“Into this great assembly, came the boy and 
his ten dwarfs. The boy had been given a 
beautiful suit, and he looked very fine in it— 
but now the king is speaking. We must 
listen: 

“ 'Brave boy, I give you this sword. If you 
but touch the dragon with it, his power is 
gone. Then will the wicked spell be passed, 
and all dwarfs will be happy again. Let me 
tell you our story. 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


123 


“ The dreadful dragon wanted our beautiful 
daughter for his queen, and because we re¬ 
fused him, he changed her into a flower, and 
there she grows on the edge of the awful gulch 
in which he lives. 

“ Tor a long time we did not know where 
our daughter was, because the dragon had 
cast a spell over all dwarfs and made them 
speechless, but after a time one of our old 
witch dwarfs cured the enchanted ,gander’s 
hurt foot, and the gander told the secret. The 
queen and I will march with you until we get 
near the dragon’s gulch, and all of our people 
will follow. We are ready/ 

“It was a grand army of dwarfs, that went 
with the boy. He had mounted the wild 
pony, and the stick of wood he had fashioned 
the night before, was tied on to the saddle. 
When they were within a mile of the dragon’s 
gulch, all the dwarfs stopped. 

“ 'We dare not go beyond this spot,’ the 
king said, 'because the rest is enchanted land. 
Be brave, and you will have my daughter for 
your wife, and she is the fairest lady in all 
the world.’ 

“The boy struck the pony a sounding whack, 
and the animal raced until he tremblingly ap- 


124 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


proached the terrible gulch. When they were 
at the edge, the boy dismounted, and safely 
tying the pony, pushed a great rock forward 
and it went hurtling down into the gulch. 

“In a moment a terrible roar came from the 
gulch. The great body of dwarfs were seen 
running away across the plain, and the pony 
strained at his rope, in his fright. 

“Next, the boy brought the stick of wood 
to the edge of the gulch; then sent down an¬ 
other rock. 

“It was not long before great claws began 
to appear out of the pit. The dragon was com¬ 
ing up to see what was going on. When the 
horrible head began to show, the boy com¬ 
menced to sing. 

“It was such a beautiful song that even a 
dragon could not withstand it. The wicked¬ 
looking thing's hundred eyes all grew sleepy, 
and it opened its mouth to yawn. That was 
the boy's chance. He pushed the stick over the 
side of the gulch, and it fell right across 
the dragon's mouth, and it hurt so badly that 
the dragon shut its mouth with a snap, and 
all its sharp teeth became fastened in the stick, 
and it could not open its mouth again. 

“The boy rushed down into the gulch and 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


125 


with the sword the king had given him, cut 
the dragon in so many places that it died at 
once. When the boy reached the top again, 
there stood the loveliest girl, just his size; that 
is, she was larger than a dwarf. 

“A great shout had gone up on the plain. 
The death of the dragon had released the spell 
on the dwarfs and they could all talk again. 

“The king and queen were filled with joy 
when their daughter was brought to them. 
The boy was made prime minister, and lived a 
very long time, and the princess was given to 
him for his wife—and that’s all, except that 
none of you must dream about a dragon to¬ 
night, because this one was the last of all the 
dragons that ever lived, and if a child is going 
to dream about anything it should be about 
something that is not all gone, forever.” 

“I was sorry for that little boy when the 
tall man tooked him from away from his papa 
and mamma,” Beth said. “He was a awful 
wicked man, wasn’t he.” 

“This story tells you that you must not listen 
to what a stranger says. Because he might 
be wicked, too.” 

Aunt Laura said this. 


126 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


“We never don’t,” Paul said. 

“But wasn’t the dwarfs funny when they 
just nodded and grinned?” Beth wanted to 
know. 

“Well, kiddies, the entertainment is fin¬ 
ished,” Papa Tom told them. “Now it’s bed.” 

And straightway the four marched, without 
as much as one protesting word or action. 




SIXTH NIGHT 




















SIXTH NIGHT 


P APA TOM had a secret for the children 
the next morning. 

“I think there’s going to be another 
next-night story,” he said. ‘This is a secret 
and you mustn’t say anything about it.” 

Dorothy was so inquisitive that she had to 
go to her mother and find out about it, but, 
of course, she had to be careful because of the 
secret. When she came back she had a sober 
face. 

“It wasn’t a good secret,” she told them. 
“Mamma says that Uncle Jim went away on 
the early train.” 

“Papa Tom said it,” Paul maintained 
stoutly. “Uncle Jim will come again. The 
car didn’t go away yet.” 

“Of course he will,” Beth agreed. She 
wanted to make Paul feel happy. 

They were all dressed in their best and went 
to church with Auntie Lou, and Paul fell 
asleep and had a dream, and said, “Uncle Jim,” 
129 


130 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


right out loud, and Dorothy laughed, and Paul 
sat up with a very red face; then Auntie Lou 
took him close to her and he went to sleep again, 
but there were no more “speak-out dreams.” 

In the afternoon Auntie Lou took a story¬ 
book and led the way to the shady brook, when 
who should come along the road but Uncle 
Jim. 

“Papa Tom’s got the secret right,” shouted 
Paul, and he ran for Uncle Jim, who didn’t 
wait till he got to the gate but jumped over the 
wall and caught up the little fellow. 

“Seems to me you don’t need any next-night 
story to-day,” he said when he saw Auntie 
Lou’s book. 

“Auntie Lou’s an awful nice story-teller,” 
Weezy answered, “but Uncle Jim’s a beaut’ful 
one.” 

“That’s wrong end first,” Uncle Jim told 
her. “I’m the nice story-teller and Auntie Lou 
is the beautiful one,” and Auntie Lou blushed 
and gave him her hand and he helped her to 
get up from her seat on the grass. 

After a while they took a walk and when 
they came back to the house, Aunt Laura shook 
Uncle Jim’s hand and Papa Tom said: 

“It’s a unanimous welcome this time.” 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


131 

Dorothy asked what that was, and Papa 
Tom explained that it meant that perhaps there 
would be some more next-night stories right 
away. 

The children were very glad. When the 
dusk came they all went to the den again. 
Weezy placed Auntie Lou’s hassock, but Uncle 
Jim drew it nearer him and all the big folk 
laughed as if he had done something funny. 

“Has you any story with little girls to it?” 
Weezy asked, for Uncle Jim was getting ready. 

“ ’N’ ammals, too?” Paul wanted to know. 

“Well,” thought Uncle Jim, “I have one 
story with little girls and animals, and the 
name of it is: 


THE FROG GIRL 

UT? DITH and Elsie were spending the 
ji summer vacation in the country 
—* with their Cousin Mollie. Such 
lovely times as they did have. On this day 
they had ridden home on a great load of hay 


132 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


—had been up in the barn cupola where the 
winding river could be seen for miles, and the 
cool air brushed the heat away from their fore¬ 
heads, and now they were down on the barn 
floor, sitting in the big door at the back, which 
was used only to let the air in. 

“ T know what let’s do/ said Mollie, sud¬ 
denly jumping to her feet. ‘Let’s go down to 
the spring and get a drink of ice-cold milk.’ 

“Away they all started at a run. They 
went out into the field back of the barn and, 
racing along the footpath, dashed down 
the little hill, which was so steep that even the 
roof of the barn could not be seen from the 
bottom; crossed the crooked brook by the nar¬ 
row plank bridge and were soon at the spring. 

“Such a lovely shady spot as that spring 
was. The bushes grew high around it, and 
in the clear water was the battered old ten- 
quart milk can. Mollie knelt and got the can 
cover off, and each little girl had a long drink 
of the cold, rich milk. Mollie was putting the 
cover in the can again when she cried: 

“ ‘See that green frog! Doesn’t it look 
funny ?’ 

“ ‘Why, it’s crying!’ said Edith, who had 
bent over the water. 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


133 

“ 'It’s coming up!’ Mollie exclaimed ex¬ 
citedly. 

“The children watched the green thing 
wriggle and sway as it came up through the 
water. When it began to climb on to the bank 
on the other side, Elsie put her finger in her 
mouth and said she was afraid; but something 
happened to surprise away her fear. The 
green frog spoke to them. 

“ ‘Oh, little girls/ it said, ‘Em not a green 
frog. I only have to act like one. I’m a little 
girl like you, but I was a bad girl and a little 
old lady turned me into a green frog to pun¬ 
ish me/ 

“The children could hardly believe their 
ears. They just couldn’t speak, so the frog 
went on: 

“ T told my mamma “I won’t” when she 
wanted me to help her, and I stamped my foot 
and ran outdoors, and the little old lady got 
me, and when she had turned me into a green 
frog she put me into a deep bag and brought 
me to this spring. O dear, my throat is so 
creaky, and I’m so damp from being in the wa¬ 
ter so long. Won’t you please find the little old 
lady and ask her to let me go home and see my 
mamma ?’ 


i 3 4 NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 

“It was Edith who found her voice first. 
She said: 

“ Tf you were so bad as that to your mamma, 
perhaps you ought to be changed into a green 
frog/ 

“But little Elsie was troubled because the 
frog was weeping so, and she thought, out 
loud: 

“ ‘Perhaps she didn't mean to/ 

“ ‘No, I didn't mean to.' The frog girl 
spoke quickly now. ‘I love my mamma, but 
I didn't want to do what she said till by and 
by.’ 

“ ‘I never said “I won't" to my mamma,' 
Edith could not forget that. 

“ ‘But you don't do everything your mother 
wants you to just when she wants you to, 
Edith,' Mollie put in. 

“Edith blushed and looked uncomfortable. 
Mollie went on: 

“ ‘I think we ought to go and find the little 
old woman and try—only we don't know 
where to look for her/ 

“ ‘I can tell you how to begin,' the frog girl 
said. Tf you can find the big white cow she 
can tell you. I heard the little old lady 
say, when she was bringing me here, that if 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


135 


no one asked the big white cow about it I 
would always be a green frog. Oh, I don't 
want to be a frog always!' 

“Mollie was already standing and Edith was 
feeling ashamed that she was not sorry for 
the frog girl, sooner. Each girl took Elsie by 
the hand and they started away through the 
grass, which grew tall beside the brook. 

• “The girls ran a long time, and by and by 
they came to a rail-fence which was so high 
that they had to pull Elsie through it. On the 
other side of the fence the grass was shorter. 
The brook flowed here, too, and as they went 
along the bank they saw little fish, and lucky- 
bugs skipping about. They had come around 
a hummock from behind a large tree, when 
they saw a drove of cows and one was a very 
big white cow, which looked very wise. Edith 
and Elsie were afraid of cows, but Mollie went 
right up to the big animal, and asked: 

“ ‘Please, would you tell us children how to 
find the little old lady who changes bad chil¬ 
dren into green frogs?' 

“The white cow looked long, and stopped 
chewing her cud. Then she asked: 

“ ‘Are you a pretty good girl?' 

“ ‘Well, I'm a pretty good girl,' Mollie an- 


136 next-night stories 

swered, blushing. The cow seemed to be quite 
a severe cow. 

“ ‘You don’t stamp and fret when you’re told 
to go to bed, do you ?’ the cow wanted to know. 
‘You don’t say “Wait a minute” every time 
you’re told to do anything, do you ?’ 

“ ‘I don’t believe I do.’ Mollie did not look 
quite so sure, though. 

“ ‘Well,’ the cow said after a long cud-chew¬ 
ing, ‘if you don’t do those things I’ll tell you 
that at the next fence you’ll find the big sheep 
and you can ask him. You want to gather 
all the flowers you can, for where the little old 
lady lives no flowers grow, and she’ll be pleased 
if you bring her some.’ 

“Mollie returned to her little cousins and told 
them all that the cow had said, and they picked 
a lot of flowers. It was quite a distance to the 
next fence, and when they finally got through 
it they were in a field of very short grass, with 
such a lot of shade overhead that the sun lay 
on the ground in little silver marks. The same 
brook was here and they saw turtles and frogs 
and tadpoles in the water. They were follow¬ 
ing along the bank when they came around a 
hummock again, and there was a flock of sheep 
with a big white one at their head. Mollie 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


137 

went up to the sheep and said the same thing 
she had said to the cow. 

“The sheep had stopped nibbling grass. It 
looked very sharply at the little girl. 

“ ‘Do you leave your playthings for your 
mamma to pick up ?’ he asked. 

“ ‘Not—not very often/ Mollie replied. She 
did not feel very brave. 

“ ‘Do you rummage up the bureau drawers 
and mix things so you can’t find them?’ 

“ ‘Sometimes/ Mollie admitted; ‘but I don’t 
mean to.’ 

“ ‘Oh, you don’t mean to!’ It was a mock¬ 
ing voice. ‘I’m sorry you know that very bad 
“Don’t mean to.” He gets children into a lot 
of trouble. Do those little girls over there do 
those things I asked you about?’ 

“It was such a loud voice that Elsie was 
frightened and began rubbing her eyes with 
the back of her hands. Edith was much 
flushed. She kept her eyes down. By and by 
the sheep said, in a softer voice: 

“ ‘I guess you are pretty good girls, so I’ll 
tell you to go to the next fence and you’ll find 
it very dark on the other side. You cry out 
“King Firefly” three times, and then wait. If 
the firefly comes, tell him what you want.’ 


138 NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 

“Mollie thanked the sheep. After gather¬ 
ing more flowers the girls started on again. 
When they came to the fence they found it very 
dark indeed on the other side. They all cried 
out together: 

“ 'King Firefly! King Firefly! King 
Firefly Y 

“Pretty soon there was a light in the awful 
blackness. It came nearer and nearer till it 
stopped on Mollie’s hair. 

“ T am King Firefly/ it said. 

“Mollie told it they were after the little old 
lady who turned bad children into green frogs, 
and was much relieved when it did not ask 
her any horrid questions. It told them all to 
get through the fence; then King Firefly blew 
on a tiny horn and a whole street of light came 
in the blackness. 

“Along this street they went, but by and by 
Elsie began to tug at Mollie’s dress. 

“ ‘Oh, Pm afraid!’ she said. ‘There are the 
queerest things on that side of us/ 

“Mollie looked on the side, and even she 
wished she was back near the spring where the 
milk can was. In the dark were lions, and 
tigers and elephants, and all kinds of animals 
fast asleep. It was certainly a terrible place, 



“Do YOU LEAVE YOUR PLAYTHINGS FOR YOUR MAMMA TO PICK UP?” 

Page 137. 






































NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


i39 


but presently they stopped before the queerest 
house. It looked like a monstrous squash, and 
right beside it was a whale, fast asleep, like 
all the rest of the things. 

“ ‘O dear/ said Mollie, ‘this is dreadful! 
The whale looks like a mountain/ Then she 
knocked at the squash-house door. 

“A little old lady opened the door. She had 
a firefly on her finger, and she peered out into 
the darkness. 

“‘Well! well! What does this mean?' she 
asked. 

“ ‘Please, we have brought you some flow¬ 
ers/ was all Mollie could think to say. She 
was fully as much frightened as she had 
ever been. 

“ ‘Come right in/ the little old lady said. 
She spoke quite cheerfully. 

“When they had sat down, the little old lady 
brought each girl a thimbleful of honeysuckle 
tea, and they all felt better. 

“ ‘Now/ said the little old lady, ‘tell me all 
about it/ 

“ ‘We came/ said Mollie, ‘to see if you 
wouldn’t change the frog in the milk-can 
spring back into a little girl again. She’s very 
sorry—’ 


i 4 o NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 

“ ‘You’ve been talking with the white cow/ 
The little old lady seemed very much disap¬ 
pointed. 

“ ‘But she’s so sorry she says she won’t do 
it again,’ Mollie persisted. She was a little 
afraid, but she thought she might as well get 
out what she came for. 

“ ‘Oh, they all say that,’ the little old lady 
said in a sharp voice. ‘They do bad things, 
and when they fear punishment they make any 
promise. I guess she’d better stay just as she 
is.’ 

“ ‘Please’—Elsie had taken her finger out of 
her mouth for the first time since she had drank 
the honeysuckle tea—‘Please, she didn’t mean 
to.’ 

“ ‘Hoity-toity!’ exclaimed the little old lady, 
and she was cross now. ‘I’m sorry you know 
that “Didn’t mean to.” He’s the worst per¬ 
son for children to know. He always lets them 
do naughty things, but you’ll mind he never 
stays around and helps them out of their 
troubles. Oh, no, he won’t do that.’ 

“ ‘The frog girl said that if you changed her 
back again she would always do every thing 
her mother told her to, and just when she was 
told,’ Mollie began again. She didn’t want 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


141 

Elsie, who was beginning to cry, to have any 
more attention. 

“ ‘She did say that ?' the little old lady asked. 
'Well, I’ll think it over. I'll go have my beetle 
harnessed and we'll all ride back and I’ll see 
for myself how the frog appears.' 

"In a little while the little old lady came 
back from her other room, and she had a high, 
pointed hat on. She said she was all ready, 
and they followed her to the door. It was 
darker than ever outside, and when the firefly 
light let them see anything, it was that mon¬ 
strous whale they saw. They mounted the 
beetle, the little old lady sitting next its head, 
to drive, Elsie sitting next so Edith could hold 
her on, and Mollie coming last. When the 
beetle spread its wings and rose into the air, 
Elsie said: 

“ I'm so glad we’re going this way, 'cause 
I was 'fraid of the lions and things.’ 

“ 'They wouldn't have hurt you,' the little 
old lady told her. 'They've come to report, 
and they promise not to bite, or even snarl, 
when they come to report.' 

" 'Report?' questioned Edith. 

" 'Yes/ the little old lady answered. 'If you 
had looked real close you would have seen kit- 


142 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


ties and puppies in the dark, too, and cows and 
horses and hens. They all come to report. 
That's how I know where the bad children are. 
The animals tell me.' 

“ Tve got a kittie/ said Elsie; then she put 
her finger into her mouth and thought. 

“ ‘Yes, I know you have,' remarked the little 
old lady, ‘and Edith has a canary bird.' 

“For some minutes the children were silent. 
Mollie was thinking about her dog, Jip. It 
was growing lighter and lighter, and at last 
they came out into the sunshine. The beetle 
was carrying them over the trees at a very fast 
rate. All of a sudden there came a sound like a 
great horn being blown. The little old lady 
leaned out over the beetle's side and waved her 
hand. 

“ ‘It's the sheep we talked with,' whispered 
Mollie, who had looked back. When they 
passed over the cows there came a loud ‘Moo.' 
Again the little old lady saluted; then the beetle 
spread its wings wide and held them still. 

“The girls felt that they were coming down, 
and in a minute they were landed beside the 
milk-can spring. 

“Just across, waited the green frog. 

“ ‘Well,' said the little old lady, ‘these good 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


143 

friends of yours have got me to come to you. 
What do you want with me?’ 

“ ‘Please change me back again/ pleaded the 
frog girl. She could not look up she was so 
ashamed. Til try ever so hard to be good and 
not do those naughty things again/ 

“ ‘That's better than saying you will be 
good.' The little old lady nodded encourag¬ 
ingly to the three little girls who waited so anx¬ 
iously. ‘I guess I'll try her again, but if she 
isn't good I'll change her into a worm; then 
no one will take pity on her and she'll stay a 
worm.' 

“The little old lady waved a wand over the 
frog and in an instant there stood another lit¬ 
tle girl. While Mollie and her cousins were 
looking in surprise, the little old lady jumped 
on her beetle. In a minute she was out of sight 
in the air. 

“Mollie took the new little girl up to her 
home. The girls all said they would not speak 
about the little old lady and the frog because 
it would make the new little girl so ashamed. 
When Mollie's papa saw the new little girl he 
cried: 

“‘Well, if here isn't Minnie Ray! She's 
been lost a week, and her mamma is nearly 


144 NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 

crazy. I’ll hitch up the horse and carry her 
home/ 

“When Mollie’s papa came back the children 
were all asking him what the mamma said when 
she found her girl. 

“ That mamma was awfully glad to see her 
baby/ he said. T guess Minnie must be a very 
good girl to make her mamma love her so; but, 
then, mammas are queer people. They love 
their children so much that they forget all the 
bad things they do. They think they can love 
them into being better children/ ” 

“That’s just a lovely story,” said Beth. “I 
guess I wouldn’t dare to do all that Mollie 
did.” 

“I would,” Paul declared. “I’d have a whip, 
and if the ammals waked up, I’d—I’d—” 

“You would run and cry just as you did 
when our lamby smelled of you.” Dorothy 
laughed as she told it. 

Paul looked around, his face flushed; then he 
caught Uncle Jim’s laughing eyes on him. 

“It was a great, big lamby,” the little fellow 
explained, “and he was pushing me over. 
Wasn’t he, Weezy?” appealing in desperation 
to his cousin. 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


145 


“Don’t mind, Paul,” Weezy answered. 
“When the calf knocked Dorothy down and 
licked her all over her face, she screeched.” 

Paul’s face cleared, and he joined in the 
laugh that came from all the grown folk. 
Dorothy was almost angry, but her retort was 
hushed when mamma said: 

“There, there, children; if Uncle Jim’s stories 
make you cross I guess we would better not 
have any more.” 

All the wrinkles came out of Dorothy’s fore¬ 
head, and pretty soon the children went happily 
to bed. 



SEVENTH NIGHT 


























SEVENTH NIGHT 


W HATEVER put it in Paul’s head that 
Auntie Lou was the one who could 
make Uncle Jim tell next-night 
stories, it was hard to say, but it was to her 
that he appealed. 

“You won’t have Uncle Jim go away this 
day, will you?” he asked her the next morn¬ 
ing. 

Auntie Lou did not make any speaking an¬ 
swer, but she held the little boy close. 

“Is we got a new secret ?” he asked her when 
his lips left her cheek. 

Auntie Lou laughed and blushed. 

“He isn’t going to-day,” she whispered. 
“I’ll tell you when he does go.” 

“Goody!” Paul exclaimed, and he regarded 
the future with contentment which surprised 
his cousins. 

“Why don’t you ask him about the next- 
night?” Weezy wanted to know when they 
were at lunch. 


149 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


ISO 

Paul caught Auntie Lou’s quick glance and 
said nothing. 

“He’s a man and doesn’t get so excited as 
some little girls we know,” Auntie Lou said 
quietly. Paul felt very proud. 

“Mans is difrunt than girls,” he replied. 

“He means,” exclaimed Auntie Lou, “that 
men can wait and be patient.” 

Paul’s eyes danced. It was really a fine se¬ 
cret. 

When Auntie Lou came home from school 
Uncle Jim was with her. 

“There’s another next-night!” the girl cous¬ 
ins shouted. 

“I knowed it,” Paul declared, and the cousins 
regarded him with astonishment. 

Papa Tom and Aunt Laura were away when 
the rest gathered in the den, and when Auntie 
Lou sat on the hassock, Uncle Jim took some 
of her pretty hair between his fingers as he 
began, “The name of this story is called: 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


151 


GRANNY CHIPMUNK’S LESSON 

UTT was a warm, sunny morning. Reddy 
Chipmunk was resting on top of a wall, 
and was blinking at a toad that was try¬ 
ing to jump up beside him. The toad did not 
seem to know it was very hot, but then toads 
are queer things. They keep up their hop¬ 
ping no matter what the weather is. 

“Just as the toad gave an extra high hop 
King Gray walked lazily out on a bough just 
over Reddy Chipmunk's head; then Reddy had 
no eyes for the toad. King Gray was the very 
handsomest squirrel that Reddy had ever seen 
and the little fellow had often wished King 
Gray would speak to him. 

“A large nut fell to the ground from the tree 
that King Gray was on. Reddy pounced on 
it and was carrying it to the top of the wall 
where he might eat it, when King Gray called 
out loudly: 

“ ‘Stealing! Stealing V 

“Reddy dropped the nut. He could not un¬ 
derstand how he was stealing, but as King 
Gray said so he thought it must be so. He was 


152 NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 

going back to the wall without the nut, when 
King Gray shouted again: 

“ ‘Bring it to me! Go, get it! IBs mine !’ 

“Reddy looked over his shoulder. 

“ ‘If it’s yours, why don’t you go after it ?’ 
he asked. 

“ ‘ ’Cause I’m not feeling well,’ King Gray 
answered. ‘This hot weather doesn’t agree 
with me/ 

“Reddy went back after the nut. He felt 
bashful now that King Gray had really spoken 
to him, but he was glad, and tugged away until 
he had the nut away up into the tree. Then he 
sat, his eyes down very respectfully, while King 
Gray ate every bit of it. 

“ ‘Now you can go!’ King Gray said, with a 
yawn. ‘I’m going to have a nap.’ 

“Reddy backed down out of the tree. He 
kept on looking respectful, but he was ashamed. 
He was saying to himself: 

“ ‘Greedy! Greedy!’ 

“He started away across the fields, and he 
was still ashamed. After a good run he came 
to a pile of rocks. He looked up and down the 
valley, and when he was sure no one saw him, 
he was out of sight as quick as a flash. 

“Under the rocks was a home. It began 



“Stealing! Stealing! ” — Page 151. 













NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


153 


with a tunnel that slanted into the ground and 
kept on running down until the home was 
reached—away under the deepest roots of the 
biggest oak tree in 'Lonesome Woods/ 

"When Reddy came running into the home 
a lot of his relations were talking together. 
Granny Chipmunk motioned, with her paw, 
that they make less noise, as the babies were 
asleep. Reddy told them about King Gray. 

"Granny Chipmunk was an awful scolder at 
all times, but when Reddy had finished she went 
on worse than ever. 

" T know that Gray family/ she sputtered. 
'They’re the laziest things in all the woods. 
They’re good-looking, but they haven’t a bit of 
family pride. They live in last-year birds’ 
nests. They wouldn’t dig such a burrow as 
we have; that’s too far down for Jack Frost 
to get us. They don’t look out for winter at 
all. Now, we have our storehouses full of 
nuts, but they haven’t anything. Sometimes 
they get a few nuts together, but in a little 
while they forget where they have put them. 
That’s the kind of folks the Grays are.’ 

"Granny looked as if she wouldn’t be a 
'Gray’ for anything. 

"When Reddy went to bed that night he 


154 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


thought that although Granny might know a 
lot about the Grays, he was sure that King 
Gray had the loveliest bush of a tail in the whole 
woods, and that there wasn’t another such a 
coat as his anywhere. 

“ 'Perhaps Granny is just a little mistaken 
about the Grays/ he thought. Til go over the 
Wall and see him just once more, anyway/ 

"The next day Reddy was on the wall. 
After sitting a while without seeing any one, 
he began to strike at the flies that were buzzing 
around his head. He had to look up to try to 
get one saucy fellow, and it was then that he 
saw King Gray swinging in a last-year bird’s 
nest. 

“ 'Got any more nuts ?’ King Gray asked in 
the sweetest voice. 'Wish you’d look on both 
sides of the wall for one. I haven’t had a sin¬ 
gle nut to-day. I’m awfully hungry/ 

"Reddy began to scamper about, looking this 
way and that way. 

" 'Look all around/ King Gray called. He 
was leaning over the edge of the nest and 
watching anxiously. 

" 'I don’t find any/ Reddy called back. 'My 
Granny says there won’t be many until Jack 
Frost come round and nips them off the trees.’ 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


i55 


“ 'Oh, I couldn’t wait till then/ King Gray 
declared. T’ve got to have something to eat 
right away. I had some lovely nuts last time 
it rained—’ 

“ 'Did you eat them up ?’ Reddy asked. It 
seemed very nice to be talking with King Gray. 

“ 'No/ King Gray answered. 'I put ’em 
somewhere, but I forget where. Can’t you 
find ’em?’ 

"Reddy laughed to himself. 

" 'Granny surely knows all about squirrels/ 
he said. 

" 'Oh, I know where there is a beautiful nut/ 
King Gray suddenly called, as if he had just 
waked up. 'Go down to the pond and you’ll 
find it. It’s just where the birch tree always 
leans out listening to what the water is saying. 
You get it, and I’ll give you half.’ 

" 'If I get it I’ll have all of it/ Reddy de¬ 
clared. 

" 'If you’ll bring it to me I’ll give you half 
and some time I’ll walk out with you.’ 

"That made Reddy think. If the wood¬ 
chucks and blue jays saw him walking out with 
King Gray they would think he was a pretty 
smart kind of a chipmunk. After a while he 
started for the pond on a run, and he found the 


156 NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 

nut just where King Gray said; but it was quite 
a distance out in the water. 

“Reddy ran up and down the shore of the 
pond. He wanted the nut, but he did not want 
to get wet. He had decided to go home and 
let King Gray find his own nut, when King 
Gray shouted, from the tree, in a teasing 
voice: 

“ ‘Fraidmunk! Fraidmunk!’ 

“Reddy could not stand that. He began 
rolling stones into the pond to make a little 
bridge. 

“ 'Hurry up!’ King Gray called. 'Hurry 
up, if you want to go out walking with me.’ 

“Reddy did hurry up. He walked out on 
his little bridge, and, tipping his head so that he 
could see the nut with both eyes, he made a 
plunge for it with his front paw. 

“But the bridge was wiggly. Reddy lost his 
balance and went into the pond. But when he 
came up out of the water, sputtering, he had the 
nut. 

“How King Gray did laugh when he saw the 
dripping Reddy. 

“ T wouldn’t have fallen in if I had gone for 
it/ he said, but he took the nut. 

“Reddy sat straight on his haunches while 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


157 

King Gray cracked the nut. He was hungry 
after his hard work. 

“ Ts it a good nut?’ he asked after a wait. 

“ ‘Best I’ve had for a long time,’ King Gray 
answered. 

“ ‘How soon am I going to have some ?’ 
Reddy wanted to know. The nut was going 
fast. 

“ ‘Oh, I can’t give you any,’ was the reply. 
‘You kept me waiting so long that I’m so 
hungry I’ll have to have it all.’ 

“ ‘Are you going to walk with me ?’ Reddy 
asked, after thinking a long time. 

“ ‘I’m so full I can’t go to-day,’ laughed King 
Gray. ‘Some time when I haven’t had such a 
good breakfast I will, perhaps.’ 

“Reddy backed down the tree. He hoped 
there were’nt any woodchucks or blue jays 
around that had seen how silly he had been. 
He got home as fast as he could, and told his 
whole family all about it. 

“ ‘Served you right!’ Granny exclaimed; but 
she was vexed. She thought a while, then 
called the family together. 

“ ‘I’ll teach that King Gray a lesson,’ she 
said; then she told them of a plan, but she said 
no one must lisp a word about it, so I can’t tell 


158 NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 

you; but if you’ll wait a little you’ll see how 
Granny Chipmunk gave King Gray a lesson. 

“Reddy was over at the wall again next day 
and whom should he see on the ground but 
King Gray. 

“ ‘He must be awfully hungry,’ thought 
Reddy; then he shouted: 

“ ‘Fibber-king! Fibber-king!’ 

“King Gray looked up, blinking. 

“ ‘Is it because I didn’t give you any of the 
nut ?’ he asked. He was too hungry to be cross 
at being called ‘Fibber-king.’ 

“ ‘My Granny doesn’t want me to talk to 
fibbers,’ Reddy answered. ‘We don’t have any 
fibbers in our family/ 

“ ‘I’m so hungry I can’t explain,’ King Gray 
coaxed. ‘Can’t you get me just a little nut, and 
then I can explain.’ 

“ ‘I know where there are a lot of nuts,’ 
Reddy said; ‘but I can’t bring them, they’re so 
big/ 

“King Gray opened his eyes wide. Nuts, 
big and plenty, sounded very nice indeed. In 
a little while the two were walking across the 
fields, and the chipmunk was pleased to see 
woodchucks and hedgehogs and woodpeckers 
staring after them. 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


159 


“Reddy guided King Gray to his own home. 

“ ‘The folks are all away/ he said. ‘You go 
down through the tunnel and keep on till you 
come to the pantry. You can eat all day if you 
want to/ 

“King Gray didn’t even stop to thank his 
guide, but started down the tunnel. It was a 
very small tunnel for a gray squirrel, and 
pretty soon King Gray’s silvery coat was full 
of dirt from rubbing against the walls. After 
he had gone quite a distance the tunnel got so 
steep that he had to run, and so crooked that he 
kept bumping his head. He had just begun to 
wish he hadn’t come when he lost his footing 
altogether and when he stopped sliding he was 
in the pantry. 

“King Gray stared around him. He had 
never seen so much food in one place before, 
in his whole life. Then he began to eat. He 
ate and ate and ate. He forgot that he was 
already too big when he came down the tunnel, 
but he kept growing bigger. When he had 
eaten all he could possibly hold, he took little 
short steps to the tunnel. 

“He couldn’t go up. He squeezed and cried 
all at one time. He got very much frightened 
and began to call: 


160 NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 

" 'Reddy Chipmunk! Reddy Chipmunk!’ 

"No one answered him. He was so scared 
that he forgot about his nice coat and began to 
push and turn over and punch his head against 
the sides of the tunnel to make it bigger. 

"He was crying all the time now; but he was 
working harder than he had worked in all his 
life. By and by, when he was so tired that it 
seemed as if he could not work another minute, 
his head hit something very hard. The truth 
came to him in a flash—he had been shut in. 

" 'Reddy Chipmunk !' he shrieked. He 
thought he heard voices outside. 

" 'What do you want?’ 

"It was Reddy's voice, just as sweet as if 
there wasn't any one near that was worried 
and tired and dirty and who wanted to go 
home. 

" 'Oh, Reddy,' he said, 'I'm so glad you're 
there. I don't want any more nuts. I guess 
I'll go home now.' 

" 'Granny says won't you please go down 
and get her a good big nut?' Reddy called 
back. King Gray almost thought Reddy was 
laughing. 

" 'Oh, I couldn't, thank you, Reddy/ he 
whined; 'this burrow is too small for me. I've 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 161 

got heartache from being squeezed so much. 
I want to get out, so I can take a walk with 
you, Reddy. Won’t the woodchucks think 
you’re fine when you’re walking with me, 
Reddy?’ 

“He was talking very fast, because he was 
very much afraid that something was going to 
happen to him—and something did. It was a 
rock above his head, and it was lifted so that 
a tiny speck of light came in. King Gray saw 
the whole Chipmunk family gathered without, 
and they were holding their sides in laughter. 
The next thing he saw Granny Chipmunk put 
something in the hole. It was a stick, and 
it gave King Gray a push, and he lost his bal¬ 
ance and tumbled and rolled clear down to the 
pantry again. 

“He caught up a nut and scrambled up the 
tunnel again. It was easier now because he 
had made the tunnel bigger when he went up 
before, but he was none the less frightened. 
It was quite dark in the tunnel. When he 
came up to the 'shut-in rock’ again, he called at 
the top of his voice: 

“'Here’s Granny’s nut, Reddy! Now, let 
me out quick!’ 

“ 'Oh, thank you, King Gray,’ Reddy an- 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


162 

swered. ‘Now, won’t you get a nut for 
Mamma, please?’ 

“There was a great shout of laughter from 
all the chipmunks. Old Granny reached in her 
stick again and down went King Gray to the 
bottom of the burrow. 

“That was Granny Chipmunk’s lesson. King 
Gray did not stop his exercise until sundown. 
He climbed up with a nut and was sent back 
again with a thump and a stick. He begged, 
and cried, and said he’d ‘never do it again,’ but 
the chipmunks kept him at work. It just took 
the laziness all out of him. 

“When he was let out at last, he was so 
dirty and his nice skin was so worn that it 
would have been hard to tell him from the 
commonest woodchuck. He was glad to get 
out, and he kept making promises. When a 
chipmunk spoke to him, if it was only a baby 
chipmunk, he would sit up on his haunches and 
cross his front paws to show he was listening 
very hard. 

“If chipmunks and squirrels get along to¬ 
gether any better than they once did, I 
shouldn’t wonder if it was because of the les¬ 
son King Gray received from Granny Chip¬ 
munk.” 














































EIGHTH NIGHT 


a\T 7 E didn’t have a horse next-night,” 
Paul said the next day. “You 
got any horse ones?” 

It had really come to story-choosing, rather 
than worrying because there were no stories. 
Uncle Jim was staying right along, and there 
were so many auto rides that they were “no 
dif-runt than horse rides.” At least Beth 
said so. 

When it was time for school to close, the 
auto was in front of the schoolhouse, and 
then there was a good time, for “Auntie Lou 
was s’prised when she came out, ’cause her 
cheeks were bright.” 

Of course Paul rode on the front seat be¬ 
side Uncle Jim, and he was there when he 
asked that question about a horse next-night 
story. 

The three girls and the lady behind leaned 
forward to hear what the answer would be. 
Uncle Jim said: 

165 


166 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


“I guess I have one or two about horses.” 

“Goody!” exclaimed Paul. It was so differ¬ 
ent to have him talk about two stories all in 
the same time. 

They had a lovely ride that afternoon. The 
children and Uncle Jim picked flowers and 
threw them all over Auntie Lou, who was 
playing she was the queen, and Uncle Jim said 
she was a truly one. 

When they got home and had eaten supper, 
Paul announced that this next-night was to be 
about a horse, and as everybody likes horses, 
everybody was waiting when Uncle Jim said: 

“This story is about: 


THE HORSE AND THE HEN 

LD JOHN stepped down from the 
l J velvety green grass on to the 
sand-bar which jutted out into 
the river. His long neck was stretched for a 
breath of the cool air which came over the 
rippling water. 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 167 

“The beautiful, clean meadow through 
which the river ran was just the place where 
a great horse that was getting old could pass 
his resting days. The gentle breeze, which 
always kept the water rippled, did something 
else, too. It kept bothersome flies away. 

“John walked into the water until his knees 
were covered. Suddenly he stopped walking, 
and looked steadily at something up the 
stream. 

“Whatever it was, this thing up the stream 
was turning over and over. It was coming 
nearer and nearer, and as the horse kept on 
looking he saw that there was something alive 
in the turning thing, and whatever was alive 
was doing a lot of jumping to keep its head 
above water. 

“John was very curious, but he did not want 
to have it look as if he were prying into some¬ 
thing that wasn’t his business, so he took a 
long drink of water and then put his nose into 
the river almost up to his eyes and threw the 
water all over his chest and did other kinds 
of horse play; but he never took his eyes from 
that rolling thing, and when it was floating by 
the end of the sand-bar, and would soon be be¬ 
yond his reach, he gave a quick reach of his 


168 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


neck and his teeth took a fast hold of the thing, 
and the next instant it was high and dry on 
the sand-bar. 

“It was a coop that he had caught, and in¬ 
side it was a much-bedraggled hen. 

“ ‘Say, you stupid giant, smash a slat or 
two, will you ?’ the hen called, in a hoarse, cross 
voice. 

“The horse lifted his iron shoe. 

“ ‘Look out you don’t make a mistake and 
hit me/ the hen called, getting off in a corner. 

“She had hardly finished when that coop lay 
strewn in forty pieces. In another minute the 
hen was out on the velvety river bank, walk¬ 
ing up and down, clucking excitedly. 

“ ‘Well, if I haven’t had an experience!’ she 
clucked. ‘I’m the wettest hen that you ever 
saw, and you know that a hen that gets a little 
wet is pretty mad. I’m wet through to my 
bones. Did the flood bother you folks much?’ 

“ ‘I haven’t heard about any flood—’ be¬ 
gan John, but the hen stopped him with a 
snap. 

“ ‘Of course you haven’t heard. A great 
hulking thing like you wouldn’t know a flood 
if you saw one. Don’t you believe that there 
has been a flood? If you don’t believe it, what 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 169 

do you think I was in that river for? Do you 
think I forgot and thought I was a duck?’ 

“Such a spiteful way of saying things that 
hen had. And what a loud, ungentle voice she 
said them in! One thing John knew at once, 
and that was that this was no lady hen. Lady 
hens, like real ladies, always speak low and 
kindly. John was a gentlemanly horse, even 
if he had always worked. He thought, as he 
heard the hen sputter, that if he had at any 
time in his life shown such a temper, he would 
have received a taste of the whip-lash. He 
was glad he had pulled the poor thing out of 
the water, but he did not care for her company, 
so he began to walk away, all the time nibbling 
the sweet grass. 

“This made the hen more sensible. She 
saw it was a direct snub, and she thought that 
she would get on better if she improved her 
manners a little. She began to explain. 

“ There’s been a terrible flood up the river. 
The farmer had me in a slat coop because I 
wanted to sit, and he didn’t want me to—but 
I did sit. I’ll sit just when I want to. I sat 
on the slats, so there! He wasn’t so smart as 
he thought he was.’ 

“ ‘What a disagreeable fowl!’ thought John. 


170 NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 

“ The family hadn’t been abed more than 
an hour that night when a man came galloping 
on horseback and crying out that the dam up 
the river had burst, and the water was rush¬ 
ing down the valley, and everything was go¬ 
ing to be covered up. Oh, I’ve had just an 
awful time since then!’ the hen ran on, al¬ 
most crying, she was pitying herself so much. 
'Nobody paid any attention to me. Every one 
was just looking out for himself, and that wa¬ 
ter got hold of my coop and took me along 
with it/ 

“ Tve always noticed that when anything to 
amount to much is done there’s always a horse 
in it,’ John said, between his nibbling. 

“ 'Well, that horse didn’t do me any good,’ 
sputtered the hen. 

" 'But this one did,’ returned John, slyly. 
'This proves that a horse is a good thing to 
have around.’ 

" 'Well,’ tossing her head angrily, 'you did 
pull me out—’ then quicker, 'but you would 
have been a stupid thing if you hadn’t pulled 
me out.’ 

" 'She’s pretty cross-grained,’ John thought. 
The hen went on: 

" 'The bobbing and jumping I’ve been doing 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


171 

since the flood came, trying to keep my head 
out of water, has worked me down to skin and 
bones. Ha! ha! ha!,’ every laugh a little more 
spiteful; T wish that farmer of mine could 
see me now. He declared that he would 
fricassee me if I didn’t stop sitting, but I just 
won't stop / Each last word being accom¬ 
panied by a stamp of her foot. T guess I’m 
the last fowl that would make anybody think 
of a fricassee, now. I’m so thin.’ 

“John W as amused, at such a display of 
temper. He could not help showing it around 
the corners of his mouth. 

“ 'Don’t stand there grinning,’ the hen 
scolded. T’m hungry. Don’t bulbs, or any¬ 
thing, grow around here ?’ 

“ 'There’s some wild artichokes growing 
over near the hill,’ the horse told her. 

“ 'Artichokes ?’ screeched the hen. 'Why 
didn’t you say that before? I haven’t had a 
peck at a single thing but a wet slat since the 
flood came. I could eat artichokes if I wasn’t 
hungry at all.’ 

“She started away with long steps, and her 
wings stretched wide to keep herself from 
stumbling. Her body swayed as a boy’s top 
does, when it is almost out of spin, and she 


172 NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 

flapped her spreading wings to make herself 
hurry. 

“John W as nibbling the grass when she came 
back, walking slowly, because she had eaten 
so much. 

“ T declare, if I am not thirsty/ she com¬ 
plained, 'and me in water up to my neck ever 
since the flood came. I said I would never 
drink another drop of water, when I was bob¬ 
bing about, but here those artichokes have 
made me thirsty. I declare it is outrageous.’ 

“Scolding away, just as if it were John’s 
fault that she was thirsty. 

“She got down on the sand-bar and began 
to drink. Well, she drank and drank and 
drank, till John thought she would explode 
herself; then she waddled up the bank. 

“ T’ve got to have some sleep,’ she said, and 
she gave an awful yawn. 'The artichokes 
and the water make me sleepy. I guess I’ll 
go over by those trees and take a nap/ 

“She was such a naturally cross hen that 
every step she took was cross, and every bob 
of her head showed the same crossness. Sud¬ 
denly she said: 

“ 'I’d like to know if that flood took my 
rooster away. I don’t care if it did either. 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


173 


I saw him strutting around with a mincing 
Buff Cochin that wasn’t six months old. I 
was in the coop or I would have set his cack¬ 
ling machinery to working. O dear, it’s aw¬ 
ful to have a home broken up like that!’ 

" 'Buff Cochin ?’ the horse inquired. 

"The hen caught the twinkle in his eye, and 
answered, in a squawk of rage: 

"'No! Flood!’ 

"Then she strutted off toward the trees for 
a nap. 

"The clouds in the sky began to take a red 
tinge on their edges and long shadows lay on 
the meadow grass. As John moved slowly, the 
dark shape he made on the grass looked as 
large as an elephant. The sun was going 
down, and soon the day must take itself off, 
for it would be the moon’s turn to give light. 
The noise of a horn being blown, somewhere, 
came across the meadow. John pricked up 
his ears. 

" 'That’s my mistress calling me,’ the horse 
said to himself. 'I’ve got to go.’ 

"It seemed an impolite thing to leave the hen 
there alone, and the horse was always polite. 
He had to think quickly, and his thought 
made him blow his lips, as a horse always does 


174 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


to let his master know he wants a drink of 
water. The noise awoke the hen, as John 
thought it would. 

“ Tm going home now/ John said, for he 
was too kind to leave her in a strange place. 

“The hen came from her sleeping place with 
a scared cluck. 

“ 'Going, and leave me here ?’ she cried. 
'Well, of all the ungrateful—but what could 
be expected from such a big booby as you/ 
then she began to sniffle. 'Nobody can depend 
on you; that’s sure.’ 

“Of all the unkind things a hen could say, 
that was the unkindest. John came very near 
stamping his foot, he was so cut up about it. 
He said: 

“ 'I will have you understand that I can be 
depended on. That is why I now have a good 
tight stall to go to. I helped make this farm 
when I was a young horse, and my master 
hasn’t forgotten what I did. If I’m not home 
in a few minutes my mistress will fret herself 
sick about me.’ 

“The horrid hen clucked mockingly. 

“ 'I could tell how my master up the river 
depended on me to lay an egg every day, if I 
wanted to, but I guess I won’t. Perhaps 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


i75 

you’ll see him sometime, and he can tell it him¬ 
self.’ 

“Of course John felt badly. He knew that 
he had been bragging, and that’s a pretty bad 
thing to do, so he explained: 

“ T’m not good for much now. I carry my 
mistress to town when she takes the eggs and 
butter down, but I can’t plow and harrow and 
get in hay as I used to. Well/ for he sud¬ 
denly thought that all the hen wanted was to 
keep him talking, T must be going.’ 

“ What shall I do ?’ the hen was alarmed. 
'Perhaps there are weasels or foxes: around 
here. They kill hens. Except when I was 
bobbing down that old river I never stayed 
from home a night in my life. I’m a very re¬ 
spectable hen.’ 

“ T suppose you might go along with me up 
to the farm,’ John said, after thinking it over. 
'The farmer would let you sleep in the hen¬ 
coop, I guess.’ 

" T’m a Wyandotte,’ said the hen, hesitat¬ 
ing. 'I don’t associate with common fowls, 
such as Plymouth Rocks or Buff Cochins. I 
suppose you don’t know anything about your 
hens—whether they’re prize fowl, or just 
common biddies?’ 


176 NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 

“ ‘They’re well behaved/ John answered. 
‘They act better than some children I’ve seen 
—and some hens, too.’ 

“The hen knew this last was aimed at her. 
She thought a while longer, and made up her 
mind that she had not shown much thankful¬ 
ness at having got out of the water. She 
said: 

“ ‘You did do me a pretty good turn.’ 

“ ‘Don’t mention it,’ John replied. 

“At that minute there came a louder blast 
on the horn. 

“ ‘Well, you had better come up to the farm 
with me,’ John advised. ‘I can’t stand here 
any longer.’ 

“He started away and the hen came hopping 
after. They had not gone far when the hen 
called, very much provoked: 

“ ‘Go slower, long-legs! I’m not an ostrich! 
Don’t take such long steps!’ 

“John stopped to look down on the little 
puffing thing. 

“ ‘Perhaps you could ride on my back,’ he 
said. ‘My little master does.’ 

He knelt down very obligingly, and the hen 
flew to his back. The hen clung to his mane 
with all her claws, and John, finding that she 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


1 77 

did not fall off, started up a good lively canter. 
The hen began to jounce. 

“ ‘Here/ she squawked. ‘Don’t teeter! 
Don’t teeter!’ 

“ ‘Teeter?’ repeated John, much surprised, 
and a little indignant. ‘You’re the first thing 
that ever got on my back that said I teetered.’ 

“ ‘Well, you do/ crossly. ‘First one end of 
you goes up, then the other end. I tell you 
it’s teetering or I don’t know anything about 
teetering. I’ve got a right to call it teetering 
if I want to/ 

“John was impatient now. 

“ ‘It’s time I was home/ he said. ‘If you 
don’t want to go with me, just fly off my back. 
I do not believe my master will want such a 
complaining hen in his coops, anyway, because 
if any one is always cranky he makes every¬ 
one else cranky, too. Good-by! I’m going 
home/ 

“But the hen had no idea of being left there 
alone. John ‘teetered/ but the hen held on, 
though all the time she was sputtering. 

“When they came up over the top of a hill, 
John said: 

“ ‘There’s my little master, coming for me. 
I guess his mother sent him.’ 


178 NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 

"The hen saw the boy who was coming, 
and she also saw the pretty white house with 
green blinds, and the two big barns and the 
cattle-pens and the pig-pens and the hen-coops, 
ahead. They were going at quite a fast clip, 
and soon they were near enough to hear the 
boy shout: 

"'What made you so late, John?’ then he 
saw the hen, her feathers ruffled, her top-knot 
bobbing, and her claws clutching into John's 
mane. Every jump John would make, up 
would bounce the hen. 

"The boy laughed so much that he had to 
hold his sides. 

"'Look at the biddy on John's back!' he 
shouted, then went off into another fit of 
laughter. 

"The mother had heard the screaming and 
by the time John and the hen had come op¬ 
posite the front door, she was out watching. 
When she saw the sputtering hen, who had 
been made quite angry by having been called 
a biddy, she leaned against the side of the 
door and shrieked with laughter, and the serv¬ 
ant heard her. 

"The servant stood at the kitchen door when 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


179 


they passed and she, too, screamed with 
laughter. The hen was so cross that she 
clucked away down in her throat as if she were 
scolding; then the farmer came out of the barn 
to see what the matter was. 

“The farmer gave one look and he roared. 
His laughter was heard all over the place and 
the farm-hands came from different occupa¬ 
tions. 

“Such a noise as they made, all laughing 
together. The hen knew they were laughing 
at her and she was so mad that every once in 
a while she would peck John’ neck, as if it 
were his fault. The farmer had been coming 
nearer since he first saw the hen bareback rid¬ 
ing, and now giving a rush he caught that 
hen by the legs and pulling her claws from 
John’s mane he threw the bird high into the 
air. 

“With flapping wings and a terrible 
squawking the hen landed in the hen-coop, 
right among bantams, and common, every¬ 
day roosters. She was terribly cut up about 
it. Never in all her life had she been so hu¬ 
miliated. 

“Meanwhile John cantered into his box 


i8o NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 

stall, and no horse was ever happier than he, 
for his mistress came out and gave him a big 
red apple. 

“Well, that hen just did nothing but sulk. 
She choose a corner in the coop and she pecked 
and scratched at every fowl that came near 
her. 

“A whole week went by. Every day John 
spent some of his time down on the meadow 
land by the river, and every day the hen kept 
all by herself in the corner of the coop. The 
farmer threw her some nice corn, but she 
would not touch a bit of it. At night when 
other fowls went to roost, that hen would walk 
up and down the coop, sputtering angrily. 
Not a single egg would she lay, but she wor¬ 
ried herself thin and scraggly, and remained 
exceedingly ill-natured. 

“One afternoon the farmer looked into the 
coop, and calling his man, said: 

“ ‘Bill, cut that hen’s head off. She’s losing 
half a pound a day just from sheer ugliness. 
If we don’t kill her quickly she’ll be nothing 
but bones. She’s sulky, and she’s liable to 
get the other fowls to sulking.’ 

“The hen heard it all. If she could have 
spoken she would have promised to do better, 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 181 

just as children promise, when they have done 
wrong, but she could not make men under¬ 
stand, so she had to do some hard thinking. 

“She knew it would hurt to have her head 
cut off, and now that it was about to be done, 
she wished she had acted better so that there 
would be no need to have it cut off. She 
thought that if she had only wanted to, she 
could have been having quite a good time all 
these days, instead of sulking. By and by 
she had thought it all out. People do not want 
any one around that is not cheerful, child or 
hen, and how this hen did wish she could 
have one more chance to show that she could 
be good—and she got her chance. 

“It happened this way. That evening 
Bill carelessly left the door of the coop open. 
Perhaps he thought that hens roost all night, 
and there was no need to close the slat coop. 
At any rate, this hen who had not roosted 
since she came to the coop, got out, and ran to 
the barn where John lived. When she got 
there she began to cluck, lowly, and John, who 
was munching his oats, heard her and blew 
his lips. In one short fly the hen landed in 
John’s manger. 

“ ‘They’re going to cut my head off,’ she 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


182 

told the horse. T heard them talking about 
it. They're going to cut it off to-morrow.' 

" 'Well,' said John, T guess it ought to be 
cut off. I'm ashamed about my part in bring¬ 
ing you here. You haven't laid an egg since 
you came, and you're upsetting all the other 
fowls with your temper—' 

" 'But I won't do so any more,' the hen 
sobbed. 'I'll be a better hen if they won't cut 
my head off. I know I have a terrible temper, 
but I'll behave better if they only won't cut my 
head off. I don't want it cut off.' 

"'Will you eat some of my oats?' John 
asked, just to see if the hen did mean to try 
to be a better hen. 

"Would she? For the next five minutes she 
ate as if she would never stop. John nodded 
his head to her encouragingly. 

" 'Now do you want some water?' he asked 
her. 

"She hopped up on his water bucket and the 
way she did drink really made John smile. 

" 'I guess you mean business,' he said. 
'Now take a nap.' 

"They both took a nap, and they slept until 
the sun climbed above the clouds and threw a 
great shining smile across the big barn floor. 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 183 

Soon after the smile came, the farmer ap¬ 
peared. 

“ ‘Hello, John/ the farmer called in his 
gruff, but kind voice, the minute he came in 
at the door. ‘Sleep well, old fellow?’ 

“ ‘Cut-cut-cut-cadacuck! Cut-cut-cut-cada- 
cuck!’ 

“That was the answer the farmer got. He 
looked surprised, because hens were not al¬ 
lowed in the barn, but when he saw the egg 
in the manger, and looked down on the proud, 
and very good-natured hen, he laughed loudly. 

“ ‘I declare, I believe she was lonesome for 
John/ he said; ‘I won’t have her head cut off as 
long as she lays such fine eggs as this one, 
and she can have the manger for a coop if 
John doesn’t object.’ 

“This is how it came out all right. The 
hen stayed in John’s manger, and if she ever 
met any of the other hens she behaved her¬ 
self. She was polite even to ducks, and she 
used to give chickens good advice. 

“Every day there was a nice large egg in 
John’s manger. Everybody who came to the 
farm was brought out to see the two great 
friends, the Horse and the Hen, and the farm¬ 
er’s wife had a kind word for the hen as well 


184 NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 

as for the horse. Sometimes the friends went 
down to the meadow together, but the hen did 
not speak of the past very much. She would 
often say, though, that if any one would try to 
be good, he would be good after a time; but 
when any one would not try, while others 
were made unhappy by his temper, he made 
himself the unhappiest of all.” 

“I guess that is a true story,” Aunt Laura 
said, when the children had ceased the rus¬ 
tling which had been let loose by the conclusion 
of the story. “I know that children who are 
so selfish that they make other folks unhappy 
are more unhappy themselves.” 

“O’ course it's a true story,” Paul com¬ 
mented. “All next-nights is true stories. 
My, but they is good stories! When Paul gets 
to a man he’ll tell the children stories every 
night.” 

“Will I be there, Paul?” asked Beth. 

“Course!” Paul answered. “You’ll be sit- 
tin’ on the hassock to me just like Auntie Lou 
does to Uncle Jim.” 

























NINTH NIGHT 


A LL anxiety over the “next-night” stories 
not coming, was over. Auntie Lou 
let the secret live right along, and 
Paul assured the cousins that there was an¬ 
other next-night. 

Papa Tom said the following evening: 

“I missed that next-night all right.” 

“He surely did,” Aunt Laura agreed. “He 
said half a dozen times that he’d rather be up 
in the den with the children.” 

The children laughed in glee. 

“We had Auntie Lou,” Weezy said content¬ 
edly. 

“And Uncle Jim smooved her hair ribbon 
with his fingers,” Beth divulged. 

“It wasn’t her hair ribbon; it was her hair,” 
corrected Dorothy. 

“Well, well, children, you mustn’t—” Aunt 
Laura began. 

“You mustn’t tell all you know,” finished 
Papa Tom, and he laughed most heartily. 

187 


i88 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


“The name of this story,” Uncle Jim inter¬ 
rupted, and everybody was still, “is: 


DANDY BEAVER AND SIPPY WOOD¬ 
CHUCK 


U\ fAMMA WOODCHUCK, who 
J V/1 always had a headache, de¬ 
clared that ‘Nosey' had never 
before made such a racket. 

“ ‘Can't you stop that 'chuck's noise, Lazy?' 
she complained. Then she covered both her 
ears with walnut shells and moaned: 

“‘Oh! Oh! Oh!' 

“Papa Woodchuck was known as ‘Lazy' by 
every animal and bird that lived in, or came 
to ‘Side-hill.' He would not bring food for 
his family. He was lazy. He wanted to lie 
on his back all day, with his front paws be¬ 
hind his head, and his hind feet on one of the 
roots about which the woodchuck burrow was 
built. 

“ ‘I saw “Sippy” talking with “Dandy 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 189 

Beaver,” ’ Nosey screamed. He had caught 
at a higher root and was swinging over Lazy’s 
head. Lazy did not try to stop his noise. 

“Sippy Woodchuck was Nosey’s sister. If 
it wasn’t for her the ‘Lazy Woodchucks’ 
would have gone pretty hungry. She just 
looked out for the family. Once, when Old 
Hedgehog caught Nosey stealing his roots he 
stuck three of his sharpest quills into the little 
’chuck’s nose. If it hadn’t been for Sippy, 
Old Hedgehog would have stuck more quills 
in. She came up and cried and that made Old 
Hedgehog take out his quills. The hurt 
Nosey got made him swell all up in the front 
of the face, and that swelling never all went 
down. That is how he got the name of 
‘Nosey.’ 

“The ‘Lazy Woodchucks’ did not move in 
‘Side-hill’s’ best society, but family connection 
was not thought of when Sippy was around. 
Mrs. Old Hedgehog, who was at the head of 
everything which amounted to anything in 
‘Side-hill,’ just doted on Sippy. This Dandy 
Beaver, whom Nosey had screamed about, 
was a pretty important animal around ‘Side- 
hill,’ these days. The beavers were building 
a fine dam in the meadow at the foot of ‘Side- 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


190 

hill/ and Dandy Beaver was the engineer. 
He told every other beaver what to do. 

“Lazy Woodchuck had heard before, that 
Dandy Beaver went out walking with Sippy. 
He wanted to hear more, so he said now: 

“ 'Green Croak Bullfrog was telling me last 
time the moon was shining, that Dandy 
Beaver was going to make things hum around 
“ Side-hill.”’ 

“ 'Glad somebody’s going to make things 
hum/ Mamma Woodchuck snapped. 'Oh, my 
head! Oh, my head!’ 

“ 'Pity you’ve got a head/ Lazy scolded. 

“Mamma Woodchuck did not say anything, 
but she was thinking she would give Lazy 
something peppery hot pretty soon. 

“ 'My father used to say that he might have 
mated with a beaver/ Lazy said. 'She was a 
smart-looker, too, he used to say. If any 
beaver ever talks to you, Sippy, hold your head 
high. You come from good stock—’ 

“ 'Away back/ put in Mamma Woodchuck. 

“ 'Away back/ Lazy said, after her; then 
turning crossly, 'What did you say “away 
back” for? It wasn’t away back. My 
father—’ 

“ 'Your father was so stupid that he tried 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


I 9 i 

to walk on the water, and he was so lazy that 
he wouldn’t try to save himself when he found 
out how stupid he was!’ 

“That was Mamma Woodchuck’s peppery 
hot something, and it kept Lazy blinking for 
a while. 

“This was the kind of talk Nosey heard all 
the time, so it isn’t strange he grew up a noisy 
’chuck. Now he gave a frightful screech. 
Mamma Woodchuck cried: 

“ 'Oh, my poor head!’ 

“Sippy boxed Nosey’s ears, and she did it 
well. 

“ 'Stop your screaming,’ she said, 'or I’ll tell 
Old Hedgehog to roll all over you the next 
time he sees you.’ 

“That stopped Nosey. He was cross, 
though, and told himself he would pay Sippy 
back the first time he got a chance. The 
chance came the next time the sun came out. 

“Sippy had done up all the work and was 
starting for a walk. 

“ 'Where are you going, Sip?’ Nosey called. 

“ 'I’m going over to see how “Sticky 
Hedgehog” is,’ Sippy answered. 'You stay 
here to run for mamma’s Balm of Gilead leaf 
when she wants to smell her headache off.’ 


192 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


“Nosey followed her to the door and saw 
that she was really going to Old Hedgehog's. 
He saw her scratch at Old Hedgehog's tree. 
Mrs. Old Hedgehog came to the hole in the 
tree. 

“ ‘Oh, Sippy,’ Nosey heard her say, ‘is that 
you? I'm so glad. We're afraid that Sticky 
is coming down with the mumps. Couldn't 
you run over for Doctor “Horned Owl" ? 
He's dreadful good for mumps.' 

“ ‘Of course I can/ Sippy answered, and she 
disappeared down “Side-hill." 

“To go to the swamp where Doctor Horned 
Owl lived Sippy had to take the path by the 
beaver meadow. All at once she saw Dandy 
Beaver. He was sitting up on his haunches 
bowing to her. Sippy was very polite, so she 
sat up and bowed, too. 

“ ‘It's a very nice sun-up/ said Dandy. 

“ ‘Yes, it is/ Sippy answered, ‘but I can’t 
stop to say it, because Sticky Hedgehog is 
coming down with the mumps, and I'm going 
after Horned Owl.' 

‘“Can't I go for you?' Dandy asked. T 
swim right across there. It's much nearer.' 

“She did not say he couldn't go, so ‘ker- 
splash' he was in the water. In a few minutes 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


193 


Horned Owl flew over with his medicine box, 
and in only a few minutes more Dandy 
Beaver crawled out of the water close to where 
Sippy was resting. 

“ ‘Didn’t I go pretty quickly?’ Dandy asked. 
He saw that Sippy was surprised. 

“ ‘I never saw anything so quick,’ Sippy an¬ 
swered. 

“ Tf you’d like I’ll teach you to swim,’ 
Dandy said. 

“ ‘Oh, I guess I won’t learn, thank you,’ 
Sippy told him. She was afraid it wasn’t 
woodchuck-like to swim; but she thought to 
herself: 

“ ‘He’s just as nice as he can be.’ 

“ ‘I shall be around here quite a while,’ 
Dandy said. ‘I have a lot of beavers up in 
the woods cutting down trees. When the 
pond lilies bloom we will get the trees out 
into the meadow and sink them. That’s the 
way we begin our dam. Would you like to 
know how we get the trees to the bottom?’ 

“ ‘Very much,’ said Sippy. She was stick¬ 
ing a pine needle through a maple leaf to make 
herself a bracelet. Dandy thought she was 
just a dear. 

“ ‘We gnaw down the trees so they will fall 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


194 

into the marsh/ he explained; 'then we dig 
brooks out under them and float them down to 
where we want them. Then we load stones 
on them until they sink— 5 

" 'Oh, please/ began Sippy, looking around. 
'Nosey’s coming. He’ll plague me if he sees 
you talking to me. Couldn’t you just tumble 
into the water again without hurting your¬ 
self, so Nosey won’t see you?’ 

"In two winks of time Dandy was in the 
water. Nosey saw only Sippy when he came 
—then he paid her back for boxing his ears. 

"He crept down the hill, and when he was 
close to her he shouted: 'HUH/ very loudly. 
Sippy did not know he was so near, and she 
was so frightened that she tumbled backward 
and into the water she went. Nosey laughed 
first, but when she did not come out he began 
to cry for her to come—then he ran up the 
hill, shouting: 

" 'Sippy’s drowned herself!’ 

"In a short time 'Side-hill’ was all excite¬ 
ment. Sticky Hedgehog got well of the 
mumps right off, and came with the rest of 
the Hedgehogs to comfort Mamma Wood¬ 
chuck. They forgot they were the first fam¬ 
ily of 'Side-hill.’ Down on a hummock in the 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


195 


swamp Green Croak Bullfrog was calling the 
alarm. The tree-toads creaked their song 
even though it was broad daylight. The 
squirrels and field mice came to the doors of 
their burrows, and everybody talked and no¬ 
body listened. All at once Green Croak Bull¬ 
frog, who had been talking to a tadpole, bel¬ 
lowed : 

“ 'Nosey—shoved—her—in! Nosey—shoved 
—her—in !’ 

"Mamma Woodchuck fainted. Old Hedge¬ 
hog put up the quills that grew all over him, 
and, running to Nosey, stuck one of them 
through the little ’chuck’s ear, and carried him 
off to the lockup. 

“Sippy was not drowned. She had hardly 
struck the water before Dandy Beaver caught 
her and was off like a race-horse. When 
Sippy came out of her half-drownedness, she 
was in a queer house with a clean floor and a 
top, which was rounded like a big, cleaned-out 
nut. 

“ 'Where am I ?’ she asked. She saw that 
she was alone with Dandy Beaver in the nut¬ 
shaped thing. 

" 'You are in my house,’ Dandy answered. 


196 next-night stories 

'Don't be afraid. I caught you just when you 
was going to be drowned.' 

"Sippy began to cry, though all the time she 
was thinking what a fine house it was. It was 
so roomy and light and clean. The light came 
from a tiny hole in the top. 

“ T want to go home,' she said. Then she 
asked, 'What do you have that hole in the 
middle of the floor for ?' 

" 'That's the way we came in,' he told her. 
'I bring my bark and other things to eat in 
there. You know all beavers have quantities 
of food stored for winter. All we have to do 
is to go out and bring it in whenever we 
want it.' 

" 'Lazy, I mean Papa, is always skimped 
for cold-weather food,’ Sippy thought, out 
loud. 'We sleep all we can in the winter so 
as not to have to eat. Old Hedgehog doesn't 
lay in a single thing for winter. He sleeps 
all through. Can't I go home without getting 
wet all over again?' 

"'Well,' Dandy said slowly, 'I might tear 
down a part of the big dam we are building. 
We have dams so that our homes are in the 
water all around, and so that we can keep our 
food. If I tear the dam down the water will 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


197 

run away, then you could walk home on the 
bare ground/ 

“If Sippy was some frightened she was a 
very sensible woodchuck. She knew that 
Dandy was very proud of his dam, and that 
a whole army of beavers were working sun 
after sun to build it higher—and here he was 
saying he would pull it down for her. She 
was sure she didn’t know any one else any¬ 
where who would do so much for her—besides, 
the more she looked around the house the nicer 
it seemed. She couldn’t help thinking of their 
tumble-down burrow that her papa never did 
any work in. Pretty soon she asked: 

“ ‘Will your folks be home pretty soon?’ 

“ T haven’t any folks,’ Dandy answered. 
Tm a bachelor beaver.’ 

“ ‘Oh, my sakes!’ she exclaimed. She had 
covered her face with one of her front paws. 

“ ‘Don’t be frightened,’ he said again. ‘I’ll 
find some way to get you home.’ 

“‘Is this your all-alone house, truly?’ she 
asked. ‘And did you build it all yourself?’ 
She was beginning to think there wasn’t any 
real hurry about getting home. 

“ ‘It’s all my all-alone house, but the other 
beavers helped me build it. They always help 


198 next-night stories 

out the poor bachelors. Don't you think you 
could eat a nice pond-lily root, if I brought one 
in?' 

“ Tm hungry.' Sippy always told things 
just as they were. T never ate pond-lily root, 
but I'd like some leaves if you have any. We 
never have but one meal a day. Lazy—I 
mean Papa—says it isn't good for us. He 
came from good stock—away back—and he 
always gets sick when he has to work.' 

“ 'Beavers eat a lot of times a day,’ Dandy 
told her. Til go and get you something.’ 

"He was out and back as quickly as he had 
gone for Horned Owl. He put before her 
pond-lily root with a sassafras stem all trained 
around it, some checkerberries, and maple bark 
for dessert. When Sippy tasted the lily root 
she lost all her frightened feeling. The 
sassafras stem was simply delightful. Dandy 
knew she was getting more satisfied. 

“ 'You can't go home just now,' he said, 'but 
when I get back from seeing what the beavers 
are doing I’ll teach you to swim and you can 
go home then.’ 

"Dandy dove into the water hole and was 
gone. Sippy began to think that perhaps she 
was saying too much about going home. She 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


199 


had never had anything to eat before without 
a dry leaf in it. When she remembered her 
mamma’s all-the-time headaches, Nosey’s aw¬ 
ful shrieking, and her papa’s getting sick if 
he had to work, she had to think of something 
else, too. That something else was Dandy, 
who wanted to do everything for her. She 
had everything cleared up finely when Daddy 
came home with some tender twitch-grass, 
some checkerberry leaves and some pink crab- 
apple blossoms. Sippy ate her share of the 
things, as if she had always been a beaver, or 
at least always had lived in a beaver house. 

“Dandy had a lot of news to tell her. He 
said that a wild duck had told him that Nosey 
was in the lockup and was screeching just 
terribly. Old Hedgehog was going to keep 
him there until he owned up to drowning 
Sippy. 

“ 'Oh, take me home!’ Sippy cried. Tm 
not drowned. They shan’t plague Nosey so.’ 

“Dandy Beaver thought she was a nice lit¬ 
tle ’chuck to forgive such a bad brother so 
quickly. 

“ Til go and let Nosey out when Old Hedge¬ 
hog is asleep,’ he said, to cheer her up. 

“That made Sippy think. 


200 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


“ ‘You wouldn’t bring him here, would you?’ 
she asked after a time. 

“ ‘Oh, no,’ Dandy answered. ‘He’d drown 
coming. Don’t you think I’ve got a pretty 
good house?’ 

“ ‘It’s just lovely—I mean it must seem so 
to you, because it’s yours; but I find it a little 
damp. I might get sore throat.’ 

“ ‘Sometimes we build our houses in the 
banks; then you could come in by land.’ 

“ ‘If I could swim, and dive,’ Sippy said. 
‘I haven’t any stretchy things in my hind toes, 
like you,’ doubtfully. 

“ ‘Dogs swim, and horses and wild boars. 
I’ve seen them. They haven’t any webs in 
their feet. You’d like it if you learned.’ 

“‘Would I?’ Sippy had forgotten that 
Noaey was screeching. 

“Dandy told her how beavers built a town. 

“ ‘We chink the holes in our dams with 
poplar branches, and linden, maple, and birch 
shrubs, and after a time these all take root and 
spread, and by and by we’ve got a regular 
forest to live in. The forest throws up hum¬ 
mocks and we build our houses near them, all 
in a line, and we have the hummocks to come 
out on and sun ourselves.’ 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


201 


“ T could help to make houses if I knew 
how to swim/ Sippy thought, out loud. 

“ ‘Some woodchucks are pretty smart/ 
Dandy said; then he seemed tickled to think 
he had said such a bright thing. Sippy was 
tickled, too, though she made believe eat 
twitch-grass to hide her face. 

“ T guess HI try to learn/ she said. 

“Dandy gave her a lesson right away. She 
tried very hard not to be afraid, and after she 
was wet all over she began to like it. Dandy 
held her chin up so the water would not get 
into her nose, and by and by she could hold 
her own nose up. After a while she wanted 
to splash, and then she began to float and then 
she could swim. 

“Next, Dandy taught her to hold her breath 
for a dive. When it was dark outside he took 
hold of her paw and down he went into the 
water, taking her with him. When they came 
up again Sippy saw she was under the stars— 
the tree-toads were singing, and the bullfrogs 
were croaking, and there was ‘Side-hill.’ The 
water was lovely and warm, and Sippy felt 
very nice swimming along by Dandy’s side; 
then came a screech. 

“ ‘Le’ me out! Le’ me out!’ 


202 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


“It was Nosey, in the lockup. Dandy 
steered for the shore and helped Sippy out of 
the water. They both crawled up the hill 
and scratched away the dirt and rocks in front 
of the lockup. 

“When Nosey saw Sippy he gave an awful 
howl and made for the woods. Old Hedge¬ 
hog came to the hole in his tree; he was in a 
bad temper. 

“ Tf you don’t stop that noise, ’chuck/ he 
called, Til come down and stick every quill 
I’ve got into you.’ 

“ Tt’s me, Old Hedgehog,’ Sippy told him. 
T scared Nosey. I’m Sippy.’ 

“Old Hedgehog just tumbled out of the 
tree. His quills are bouncy, and it did not 
hurt him any. He was very glad to see Sippy 
and shook her paw; then he went over to 
Lazy’s house to tell the good news. 

“Sippy’s mamma was so glad she forgot to 
have a headache, but Lazy was cross. 

“ T haven’t had but half a leaf to eat since 
you were drowned,’ he complained. 

“Horned Owl heard the rumpus and 
came over from the swamp. ‘Side-hill’ woke 
up completely. The fireflies waved their 
lanterns, the jack-rabbits ran races and played 



When Nosey saw Sippy he gave an awful howl and made for 

the woods. — I*age 202. 





























NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 203 

leap-frog—they were so glad—while the tree- 
toad band gave a concert in the trees. When 
everybody was the happiest and noisiest the 
tadpole whispered to Green Croak Bullfrog, 
and then such a bellow as came up from the 
swamp. 

“ 'Dandy—Beaver—saved—her! Dandy— 
Beaver—saved—her F 

"In the midst of it all a scared little 'chuck 
with a big nose crept out of the woods, and 
when he saw it was really Sippy he went and 
stood beside her and never screeched once. 
Dandy did not like all the notice every one 
wanted to give him. He kept walking back¬ 
wards, and Sippy would walk backwards, too. 
All the townsfolk followed until they were at 
the edge of the water. All of a sudden Dandy 
looked at Sippy, and Sippy looked at Dandy; 
then there were two KERSPLASHES. 

"Sippy was gone again. While the fireflies 
were still swinging their lanterns over the wa¬ 
ter to find her, Sippy was sitting in Dandy's 
home. 

"'Are there any more lily roots left?' she 
asked. 'I'm pretty hungry!' She did not 
know just how to act, for Dandy had not asked 
her to call again quite so soon. 


204 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


“‘Lots of them/ Dandy replied; then, as 
Sippy began to eat, ‘you like them pretty well, 
don’t you V 

“ ‘I never ate anything so nice/ she an¬ 
swered. By and by she stopped eating and 
looked around. ‘This is your all-alone house V 
she asked. 

“ ‘It’s my all-alone house/ be said. ‘I eat 
lots of times every sun-up, and then I eat in 
the moon-up. If you will stay here, you can 
eat, too/ 

“ ‘Then I guess I’d better stay/ said Sippy.” 



\ 








































TENTH NIGHT 


HE children only whispered it among 



themselves, but they said that if 


Auntie Lou thought what she was do¬ 
ing, she would not do it, and there would be 
an end to the next-nights. She was not at 
all sorry Uncle Jim was staying, Dorothy 
told them. 

“I saw Uncle Jim a-holding her hand, and 
my goodness! if she knew it I guess he would 
go pretty quick.” 

“Don’t nobody tell,” Paul directed, and they 
all promised. Paul went on, “She’s forgetted 
•she don’t like him. Perhaps she do, ’n’ don’t 
know it. Anyways, we likes him. We thinks 
him the bestest man.” 

It is no wonder that the children loved the 
big man, for he seemed tireless in entertaining 
them. He took them out boat-riding that next 
afternoon, and they all waited at the school- 
house because Auntie Lou had to go, too, to 
see that nobody got into mischief. It was just 


207 


208 next-night stories 

another picnic, with Papa Tom and Aunt 
Laura not there. When they reached home 
and had their supper Uncle Jim told them the 
story of: 


SAMBO AND JERRY 

a O AMBO and Jerry were great friends. 

Sambo was the horse that hauled the 
gravel out of the deep pit and car¬ 
ried it to the road-makers, to spread, and so 
make a good hard road for wagons to run over. 
Sambo weighed more than twelve hundred 
pounds. He had a broad chest, and great 
feet, and his head from tip of nose to tip of ear 
was as long as a flour-barrel. He was quite 
handsome, and Mr. Smith, who owned him, 
was very proud of him. 

“Jerry was a Newfoundland dog. He was 
black with white nose and feet and he was a 
very intelligent dog. He kept the tramps 
away, and went after the cows and brought 
the mail in from the letter-carrier and took 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


209 


a note to the grocery store and brought back 
a basket of eggs without breaking one of them 
—and did all kinds of errands, so that he was 
very valuable. 

“Jerry had a habit of coming to Sambo’s 
stall every evening and the two friends would 
talk over the things that had happened dur¬ 
ing the day. 

“Sambo’s driver was named Mulligan, and 
Jerry loved Mulligan almost as much as Sambo 
did. In all the years that Mulligan had driven 
Sambo, he had never once struck him. There 
was no need to strike him, for Sambo was so 
willing, and tried to do his work so well that 
it must be a brutal man indeed who would 
strike such a noble horse. 

“Not even Sambo could draw a load of 
gravel from the pit without a rest, so Mulli¬ 
gan, to make it easier for the horse, had dug 
little gullies here and there across the road. 
When the horse had drawn the wheels into 
a cross gully, he would stop and rest, and the 
gully would hold the load from pulling back. 

“But when Sambo got the load up on the 
even ground, he never stopped, no matter if 
the rains had made a lot of mud for him to 
draw through. He would put down his head 


210 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


and brace his strong legs and dig his toes 
into the ground and that load would go along. 

‘When Sambo got to the gravel-spreaders 
he had a treat. All the men loved the big 
horse, and as there were apple-trees near by, 
some one of the men would have an apple in 
a side pocket. When Sambo had left his load, 
he would begin to go around among the men, 
smelling of each pocket until he came to the 
right one; then he had a good lunch on an 
apple. The men would pat Sambo’s neck, 
and the happy horse would turn away and start 
for another load of gravel. 

“Once in a while Jerry would come to the 
gravel pit, and go up with a few loads, just to 
keep Sambo company. 

“ ‘And they talks to each other,’ Mulligan 
declared. 

“Mr. Smith used to laugh at Mulligan for 
saying that the horse and dog talked together, 
but you’ll see by this story that Mulligan was 
right. They did talk together. 

“Once Mulligan received word that his sis¬ 
ter who lived far away was very sick, and of 
course he must go to see her. Mr. Smith gave 
him leave of absence with full pay, for Mulli¬ 
gan had been a very faithful man. 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


211 


“ T don’t like to go thinking that some one 
else will be driving Sambo,’ Mulligan said. 
‘Couldn’t he have a little vacation, too, while 
I’m gone?’ 

“ ‘Ridiculous,’ Mr. Smith exclaimed. ‘There 
are others in the world beside you, who can 
drive Sambo.’ 

“ ‘But they wouldn’t understand the big 
horse,’ persisted Mulligan. ‘They’d fret him 
and worry him till he got sick.’ 

“Mr. Smith really thought it was all non¬ 
sense that Mulligan talked. He put an ad¬ 
vertisement in the paper for a teamster, and 
before Mulligan went away a man was hired 
to drive out of the gravel-pit during his ab¬ 
sence. 

“That night Mulligan held Sambo’s nose be¬ 
tween his hands, and talked with him. 

“ ‘It’s but a little while I’ll be gone,’ he 
said. ‘I don’t like the looks of the new driver, 
but Mr. Smith’s the boss. I wish you was 
turned out to pasture, though. I’d be easier 
in my mind, then.’ 

“The new driver began work the day Mulli¬ 
gan left town. Mr. Smith showed him how 
to handle the big horse. 

“ ‘Mulligan never struck the horse,’ Mr. 


212 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


Smith said. 'Sambo doesn’t need striking. 
Let him alone and he’ll get the work done.’ 

"The new man patted the horse’s great 
neck. 

“ 'He’s a fine fellow,’ he said, and Mr. 
Smith went away; feeling that he had a good 
man. 

"But the man was not good. He was cruel. 
He had petted the horse to deceive Mr. Smith. 

"The very first load that Sambo started out 
of the pit that morning showed the new driv¬ 
er’s disposition. When the horse stopped at 
the first wheel rut, the new man shouted: 

" 'Get along there!’ 

"The voice was harsh. Sambo had never 
been spoken to in that way before. He be¬ 
came nervous, but digging his toes into the 
steep climb, he started again. 

"It was an awful pull with no stop to get 
his breath, and when he came to the second 
gully, he was pretty nearly tired out. He had 
to stop. Then something happened that 
never had happened before. A heavy cart 
stake was brought down on the animal’s back. 

"Sambo did not stop again until he got to 
the top of the hill, but a white foam covered 
him at that time. The man took some grass 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


213 


and wiped the horse off, but even then, the 
gravel-spreaders noticed something unusual 
in the horse when he brought them the load. 

“ ‘He’s mourning for Mulligan/ one said. 

“With lowered head Sambo did not search 
for apples, but stood still as though waiting 
the word of command. His brave, though 
gentle, spirit was broken. 

“All that day, the horse tugged the loads 
out of the pit without rest. When he came 
home at night Mr. Smith looked him over, a 
frown on his face. 

“‘What’s the matter, old boy?’ he asked. 
‘I half wish I had let you rest until Mulligan 
came back.’ 

“That night Sambo lay down before he had 
eaten all of his supper. Jerry soon came in 
for the evening talk. 

“ ‘Your supper is only half-eaten,’ the dog 
said. ‘Are you sick?’ 

“Sambo shook his head. 

“Jerry was puzzled. Sambo had always 
been glad to have him visit. 

“ ‘You miss Mulligan,’ Jerry said. 

“Then Sambo told all about it. How he had 
been kept tugging all day without a rest on 
the gravel-pit hill. Jerry was so excited that 


214 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


he wanted to take Mr. Smith’s coat in his 
teeth the next morning and pull him until he 
got him to the gravel-pit where he could see 
what was going on, but Sambo would not al¬ 
low it. 

“ Tt won’t be long before Mulligan comes 
back,’ he said. Til stand it.’ 

“But the next day the new man treated the 
horse even worse, and that night the spreaders 
spoke to Mr. Smith about it. 

“ Tut the pair of bays into the pit until Mul¬ 
ligan gets back,’ they said. ‘The big horse is 
losing his mettle. He’s grieving.’ 

“But Mr. Smith laughed. 

“ ‘You mustn’t humor an animal any more 
than you would a child,’ he said. ‘That’s the 
way to spoil a good horse. Let a horse know 
that he can balk once, and he’ll balk too many 
times. The new driver praises Sambo, and 
Sambo ought to like his new driver. What 
would a horse be worth to me if but one man 
could drive him?’ 

“All this sounded first-rate, but Mr. Smith 
ought to have known that Sambo would have 
done his best with any driver. He should 
have thought that something was very wrong 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


215 

to make a horse change so suddenly. He 
looked the big animal all over. 

“ ‘He’s pretty sweaty/ he said. T suppose 
it will take a day or two more before he gets 
used to the new driver, but you’ll find that 
he’ll come nosing around your pockets for ap¬ 
ples before many days. Mulligan petted him 
too much, I guess/ 

“That night Jerry called on Sambo again. 
The horse had not eaten a mouthful of supper. 
He would not talk. He held his head low and 
appeared very tired. 

“Jerry did not stop long, but when he went 
away he had made up his mind about one thing 
and that thing was Sambo. 

“When the new driver came the next morn¬ 
ing he made a great show about being fond 
of Sambo, but the big horse drew away from 
him. 

“ ‘He acts frightened/ said Mr. Smith. 
‘You’re not hard on him, are you?’ 

“ ‘Hard on him!’ replied the man. ‘Why, 
I would as soon be hard on my own child as on 
a horse like Sambo.’ 

“The man spoke the truth that time. He 
was just as hard on his own children as he was 


2l6 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


on Sambo. A cruel man is always cruel—but 
wait. Something is to happen for Sambo 
pretty quickly. 

“When the new driver rode out of the yard 
that morning he had some company that he 
did not know about. Jerry was walking under 
the wagon. As the team was going down into 
the pit, Jerry went from under the cart and 
hid himself in a clump of bushes, very near 
where the cart would be loaded. 

“The new driver yanked on the big horse’s 
bit while the Tacking in’ was going on. If 
he had let Sambo alone, the horse would have 
done his own Tacking in.’ He always did 
with Mulligan. 

“Now, however, Sambo kept throwing up 
his head in the fear that he was to get an¬ 
other beating, and even before the cart was 
loaded the horse was so fretted that his back 
was shiny with sweat. 

“ 'Get up!’ shouted the new driver. 

“Sambo gave a plunge, and nearly fell in 
his nervousness. The new driver twitched on 
the reins, and Sambo’s sensitive mouth re¬ 
ceived a bad hurt. The horse reared and 
plunged in excitement, but he was so unstrung 
that he could not move the load a foot. 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


217 


“In a rage the new driver seized a cart 
stake and brought it down with a loud whack 
on Sambo’s back—but that was his last blow. 

“The next instant the man was on his back 
shrieking in terror. Jerry had leaped on him 
with such force that he had gone down as if 
he had been shot, and for the next two min¬ 
utes he screamed so loudly that all the spread¬ 
ers upon the road came running down, 
thinking an unfortunate accident had hap¬ 
pened. They found Jerry standing over the 
driver, whose coat and shirt had been torn by 
the angry dog’s teeth. 

“ ‘Come away, Jerry,’ the spreaders called, 
but the dog stood guard—finally one of the 
men looked at Sambo. 

“ ‘So this is what is making the big horse 
run down/ he said. ‘Look at the marks on 
Sambo’s back. This fellow has been beating 
the horse and Jerry has stopped it.’ 

“They all began patting Jerry, and without 
giving the new driver any assistance they sent 
for Mr. Smith. When Sambo’s owner came 
he was very angry. 

“ ‘So you have been beating the horse?’ he 
said to the man whom Jerry was still guard¬ 
ing. 


2l8 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


“ The horse is a lazy lout/ was the angry 
reply. 

“Jerry did not like his voice. He showed 
his teeth and gave a low growl. 

“Mr. Smith looked at the mark of the cart 
stake on Sambo’s back, and he said: 

“ Tm tempted to thrash you within an inch 
of your life. Get out of here at once, or I’ll 
forget myself, and do it.’ 

“ I’ll have the law on you,’ the man threat¬ 
ened. 'Your dog has torn my clothes, and 
you’ll have to pay for them.’ 

“ 'If you are in this pit five minutes longer 
I’ll have you in court for cruelty to animals!’ 
Mr. Smith said. 

“The man went muttering up the pit. By 
and by he turned and shouted: 

“ 'When are you going to pay me for the two 
days I’ve worked?’ 

“ 'You beat the horse,’ was Mr. Smith’s an¬ 
swer. 'If you get any pleasure from that you 
can call it the full pay for what work you did, 
but you’ll get no money from me until I see 
what the court will make you pay for your 
cruelty.’ 

“The spreaders had been rubbing down 
Sambo, and the big horse was almost free from 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 219 

his fit of trembling. Mr. Smith put his hand 
on the horse’s neck and said, kindly: 

“ ‘Come, Sambo, we’ll get the load up to the 
top of the hill/ 

“Sambo nodded his head, and spreading his 
chest, put his feet down firmly. The load was 
started and carried steadily to the first wheel- 
rut, where a rest was taken. A minute later 
the horse made another start, and when he 
reached the highway he was as cool and un¬ 
worried as he would have been if Mulligan 
had driven. 

“The big horse got a lot of apples that day, 
and he did not go into the pit again until Mulli¬ 
gan returned. He was put out to pasture, as 
Mulligan wished he might be, and the pair of 
bays hauled out the gravel, while one of the 
spreaders drove them. 

“When you think that the two bays could 
not haul any more in a day than Sambo hauled, 
you will see what a wonderful horse Sambo 
was. 

“Jerry and Sambo had many a good talk 
during that two weeks’ rest. Every night 
they saw each other in Sambo’s stall, but Jerry 
often went to the pasture to have a few words 
with his big friend. 


220 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


“When Mulligan returned, he was so in¬ 
dignant because of the way his favorite had 
been used that it was lucky for the new driver 
that he was not near the place. 

“ 'Didn't I tell ye that Sambo and Jerry do 
be talkin' together?' Mulligan asked. 

And Mr. Smith did not laugh at the idea 
again. 

“What an awfully short one," Dorothy 
said. 

“But it's a good one," Paul declared. “I'll 
kiss that Jerry's nose if I see him." 

“I don't b'lieve he'd bite you if you did," 
Beth opined. “He was a lovely doggie." 

“Next-nights is great," Weezy declared, as 
they all started for bed. 














































ELEVENTH NIGHT 


D OROTHY told it. The children were 
stilled in astonishment. 

“He isn't our Uncle Jim?" repeated 

Weezy. 

“No," said Dorothy. “Mamma said so. 
She said Papa said we could call him Uncle 
Jim." 

They were out at the swing, and all the fun 
was gone. Paul seemed to want to say he 
knew that Uncle Jim was their uncle, but if 
Aunt Laura said he wasn't—Papa Tom and 
the man who used to be Uncle Jim had gone 
off with their fishing rods early in the morn¬ 
ing and there was no chance to ask the man 
who used to be their uncle. 

“Auntie Lou will know," Paul said. He 
was thinking of his secret with her. 

When Auntie Lou came home from school 
she was met with a perfect whirlwind of ques¬ 
tions. 

“I thought it best to tell them," Aunt Laura 
223 


224 NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 

explained. “It might be embarrassing some 
time.” 

Auntie Lou was so flustered that Paul 
thought this must have something to do with 
the secret, and when he saw her alone up in 
her room, he said: 

“Aunt Laura don’t know, do she ? It’s only 
me and you’s secret.” 

Auntie Lou laughed very low and her eyes 
looked full of a new kind of pretty light. 

“Don’t you worry,” she told him. “You 
know I am to tell you when the next-night 
stories will stop.” 

“But I wants him for my own Uncle Jim,” 
Paul protested. “I’ll ask him if he won’t be.” 

“No, no.” Auntie Lou seemed all mixed 
up. “Don’t say that, dearie. I’ll tell you 
about it.” 

When the fishermen returned, Auntie Lou 
watched Paul very closely, for she knew he 
was' not satisfied to wait very long. When 
they were in their usual places in the den, the 
little fellow gave out what was on his mind. 

“You isn’t our Uncle Jim,” he said, drawing 
his little soft hand across the bronzed cheek of 
the story-teller. 

“Well, no,” was the answer, very slowly. 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


225 

“Who’s breaking rule number one?” Aunt 
Laura warned. 

“The next-night story ain’t beginned,” 
Paul insisted. “I want you for my Uncle 
Jim.” 

“Well,” Uncle Jim replied, “I can assure 
you that it isn’t my fault if I’m not. I began 
trying to be, three years ago.” 

Papa Tom roared out a big laugh. The 
children did not understand it at all, but there 
could be no more questions, for Uncle Jim 
made number one rule go to work by saying: 

“The name of this next-night story is: 


THE BIRD OF PREY 

UTT would be the jolliest season Mud 
Beach had ever known. The gentle¬ 
men of the White Winged Scooter 
family had been down from the northern 
country for some time fixing nests and finding 
feeding grounds, and to-day their ladies and 
children had arrived. The Red-breasted Mer- 


226 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


gansers, the Ruddy Ducks and the White 
Brants had come along to escort the females, 
so, of course, they had a jolly time in the trip. 

“The afternoon was warm, and as soon as 
each arrival had fixed up her feathers, she had 
flown out to the old wreck, consequently there 
was a deal of gossiping and chattering. 

“Every bird of any social standing that has 
ever visited Mud Beach tells that there is no 
such other fine roosting-place as that old 
wreck. It looks like a big skeleton of some 
enormous animal, upside down. It is securely 
lodged in the mud, and two hundred posts 
stand up, the posts being in two rows which 
meet at either end. On this fine afternoon 
every post was occupied by some bird of bril¬ 
liant plumage, and on the bow-post, which was 
the highest of all, a fine Red-breasted Mer¬ 
ganser overlooked them all as if he were a 
king. Every bird was talking, and none 
seemed to be listening. 

“Down on the flats, other birds promenaded, 
and still others flew high against the blue of 
the sky. It would have been very hard to 
have found a more interesting gathering than 
that at Mud Beach. 

“Poor little Marsh Hen thought so, at least. 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 227 

She was peeping through the grass at the rest¬ 
less company. Marsh Hen was bringing up 
the chicks her sister left, when the sportsman 
shot the mother. Oh, those sportsmen, they 
little know the unhappiness they cause! 

“Marsh Hen was a dear little thing, and so 
well behaved. Piping Plover, who was one of 
the leaders in the social whirl, always noticed 
Marsh Hen when they met, and Sandpiper, 
who was also in the smart way, nearly bobbed 
his slim neck off when he saw her. And he 
saw her every time .he could bring it about. 
Once, Sandpiper took her over to a high hum¬ 
mock close to the beach, so she might see the 
grand folk; but it was not a pleasant visit, for 
she heard them refer to her as ‘Mud Hen/ 
and she felt so badly that she never went near 
the wreck again, when the foreigners were at 
the beach. 

“On this afternoon Sandpiper had been over 
alone, and on his return he told her that all 
the fine birds fought to get the high bow-post 
of the wreck. He said that Red-breasted Mer¬ 
ganser had it this afternoon, and she was glad 
of it. Red-breasted Merganser was the hand¬ 
somest bird she had ever seen. She thought 
he was a little too fat to fly fast, though. 


228 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


Sandpiper told her so much about him that she 
was thinking of him as late as when she was 
looking around to get supper for the chicks. 

“Just then Kingfisher came, bringing her a 
nice, fresh crab. Kingfisher had only been on 
the marsh through two bathings of the sun, 
because in summer he always stays inland; but 
he had seen Marsh Hen—and, one can never 
tell how quickly he will meet his fate. 

“Now, Kingfisher was a splendid diver, so 
it did not please him to have her talking all 
the time about what Sandpiper had told her 
about Red-breasted Merganser. 

“ 'Why/ she said, 'Red-breasted Merganser 
comes up so far from where he dives, that 
everybody thinks he’s drowned, then he shouts 
in laughter. Our gulls follow him every time 
he skims over the water, because when he 
dives he sends large schools of fish to the sur¬ 
face and our gulls get them. He has such a 
lovely crest of black and green reflections.’ 

“ 'Red-breasted Merganser would be some¬ 
thing if there was anything in the head under 
that crest/ Kingfisher answered crossly. 

“Kingfisher was just as good as he could 
be. He did not ask Marsh Hen not to go 
walking with Sandpiper or not to speak to 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


22 9 


Piping Plover, as some birds would have done. 
He just gave them all a chance, and came over 
every day bringing something nice for her or 
the chicks. At night the marsh folk would 
smile to themselves when he tried to sing to 
her, the reed on which he perched swaying 
from the force he put into his notes, which 
were not very melodious. He was cross now, 
because he was jealous of Red-breasted Mer¬ 
ganser. 

“Kingfishers once were plain, gray folk; but 
when a kingfisher was let out of Noah's Ark 
it soared right up to heaven and its back took 
on the blue-green of the sky, while its breast 
was scorched to a rich chestnut color by the 
heat of the sun. Marsh Hen knew well that 
Kingfisher was of a very old family, but she 
was wise for her years. She thought the more 
she talked about some one else, the oftener 
Kingfisher would come to see her—and she 
dearly loved attention. 

“When the leaves were turned brown the 
Redheads came from the north. Sandpiper 
told Marsh Hen so much about the family that 
she couldn't help going to the hummocks to see 
them when they arrived. 

“ 'Now, you watch them,' Sandpiper di- 


230 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


rected, as the black line appeared in the sky. 
They’ll fly the whole length of the marsh and 
back again before they settle near the wreck. 
They pretend to be hunting for feeding 
ground, but Piping Plover told me they were 
just showing off their style. They’re the 
proudest people. You never heard of one of 
them being caught. They’ll dive to the bottom 
and hold on to tough grass until they get 
drowned, first.’ 

“Almost every day after this, Sandpiper had 
some excuse to get Marsh Hen out to see the 
grand folk. 

“ 'Oh, you want to see the Snow Geese, 
sure!’ he said, once, and she went with him 
because he could tell her so much. He helped 
her on to a tussock, and said: 

“ There they are! Those pure white fel¬ 
lows in the water, shining like snow in the sun. 
Don’t they look great? It takes something 
smart to get near them, I tell you! Once a 
sportsman winged one, and it fell in the marsh 
right near my nest. I helped him to fix the 
wing and he told his folk, and now I can go in 
among the Snow Geese any time I see them. 
They never keep company with any other kind 
of geese. This one I helped told me that after 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


231 


the summer ends, where they come from, the 
Sun sleeps a long time, and they come here to 
get out of the dark, and wait for him to wake 
up/ 

" 'You male birds have such a chance to 
learn things!' Marsh Hen said. She could 
not help the praise in her voice. 

"Sandpiper looked at her sidewise, and 
straightened himself so smart on his slender 
little legs that he nearly fell over backward. 

"So the gay season sped, until one day when 
it was coming to an end, Kingfisher called with 
something nice to eat. He said he had been 
at the wreck with the gay folk all the after¬ 
noon. 

" T wish you would come over with me, 
some time/ he said. 'Next season you would 
know them. I wish you would/ 

"But she shook her head. 

" 'They call me Mud Hen P she said, her 
eyes drooping. 'I know my grandmother was 
a Mud Hen, but mamma and papa always 
called me Marsh Hen P 

" 'But they wouldn't if they knew you/ he 
teased. 'They're real good people. They think 
too much of having a good time, but if they 
liked you, and I know they would, you could 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


232 

have a little of a good time yourself. Come, 
the chicks are growing. If they knew you 
they might do something nice for you, they 
have such connections/ 

“ T don’t want them to do anything for me!’ 
just as stubborn as a marsh hen. 

“Kingfisher sighed; then, after keeping still 
quite a long time, said: 

“ T want to tell you something.’ 

“Marsh Hen felt herself color up under her 
feathers. Tf he wants me to go housekeeping 
with him/ she thought, ‘he mustn’t think he’s 
going to live in that cooped-up tunnel he digs 
in the bank of the creek. I’ve just got to have 
the open air/ 

“ T don’t want to frighten you,’ he went on, 
‘but Stormy Petrel came ashore in the night 
and he says that Goshawk is flying towards 
this marsh. Now, don’t be frightened,’ for she 
had come to sit right close to him. 

“ ‘Goshawk!’ she repeated, her voice shak¬ 
ing with fear. ‘What shall I do with the 
chicks!’ 

“ ‘Well, he hasn’t come yet!’ Kingfisher said, 
to cheer her. ‘I’ll see what I can do if he does 
come! Perhaps he will start the gay folk 
from the wreck and follow them north—but 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


233 


if he does stop here—Ell see what I can do—' 

“ 'You mustn't go near him!' Marsh Hen de¬ 
clared. 'He will tear you as quickly as he 
would me or the chicks, or any other bird on 
the marsh. I will go to the wreck with you 
when the Sun gets out of his bath, if you will 
promise to hide with me in the marsh if 
Goshawk comes.' 

"That night, when she had covered the 
chicks, Marsh Hen was very happy. To 
think that the noble Kingfisher worried for her 
made her feel very glad; then she felt herself 
turning red under her feathers again, for she 
remembered that he knew that she worried for 
him. She fell to sleep at last, and her dreams 
were pleasant. Once in the night she was 
awakened by a great noise which came from 
the direction of the wreck. 

" 'They ought to be ashamed of themselves!' 
she said to herself. 'They like good times too 
much! I wouldn't wonder if there were a lot 
of chicks somewhere trying to get along with¬ 
out any mother, or sister, poor dears.' 

"When the great Sun awakened her again 
there was no clattering at the wreck. 

" 'They tired themselves out with their late 
hours!’ she said. 


234 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


“She moved quietly, so that the chicks might 
not be disturbed, going to the bank of the 
creek to find them some food. She was com¬ 
ing from behind a tussock when she happened 
to look up toward the wreck. In another in¬ 
stant she had stepped back, her heart beating 
in wild fright. All that harmless, merry, 
pleasure-loving crowd had flown, and on the 
bow-post of the wreck perched Goshawk. 

“Marsh Hen could never tell how she got 
through that terrible day. She dared not 
move for fear Goshawk’s wicked eyes should 
sight her nesting place, and she hushed the 
complaints of the chicks until the Sun shone 
from above her head. Every minute she ex¬ 
pected to see Goshawk rise into the sky to cir¬ 
cle—circle—every sweep bringing him lower 
until he had clutched her nest. She shuddered 
as she told herself that she would give herself 
first. Perhaps the chicks would be saved. 
When she thought of the chicks peeping here 
and there, looking for her, she cried silently. 

“How still the marsh was! Lark had not 
sung a note, and he always woke the Sun and 
sang for him until he came out of his bath. 
Where was Kingfisher? Then she knew that 
he was watching over her, somewhere; but 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 235 

that to come to her might direct Goshawk to 
her nest. 

“The noise that the folk from the north had 
made in the night was now explained. Gos¬ 
hawk had come among them while they were 
sleeping. Perhaps Red-breasted Merganser, 
who always tried for the bow-post, was on it in 
the night. Perhaps he was on it now, in Gos¬ 
hawk’s awful talons. 

“In all the stories she had heard of Gos¬ 
hawk she had been told that he never alighted 
except when he had prey to eat. Perhaps he 
had killed so many of the folk who were on 
the wreck that he would go away, satisfied. 

“After the Sun passed above her the chicks 
would not be still. They scratched in the mud, 
but she made them keep under cover of the 
creek bank. She watched the motionless Gos¬ 
hawk. As the dusk fell on the marsh there 
were sounds showing restlessness. A loon 
called, and a coot answered. Marsh Hen 
peered in increasing fear at Goshawk, but he 
never changed his position. He still sat on 
the bow-post. 

“The Sun’s gilding was going from the in¬ 
land side of the grass blades when Sandpiper 
came to her all out of breath. He had run 


236 NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 

the course of the creek, covering himself by its 
banks. 

“ 'All the marsh folk are in terror !’ he said. 
'Why, you are all tired out!’ 

"It was because she had fallen; but she told 
him that it was because of relief at seeing 
some one. Sandpiper’s little heart felt braver 
than his legs did. 

" 'I have watched so long!’ Marsh Hen ex¬ 
plained. 'I heard the loud noise at the wreck 
in the night. It must have been when Gos¬ 
hawk came.’ 

" 'I heard it, too/ Sandpiper told her, 'but 
I heard the gun just before, and thought that 
was what frightened them. Did you hear the 
gun only a few minutes before?’ 

" 'I have not heard a gun since I had to take 
the little chicks,’ she answered. 

"Sandpiper was sorry he had mentioned it. 
He went into the creek and fished, saying that 
no Goshawk could see a little thing like him. 
He was unhappy because he had made her un¬ 
happy. When he returned he brought mus¬ 
sels and tender little crabs. The chicks came 
to the nest, for the dark was setting in, but 
Goshawk still perched on the bow-post of the 
wreck. 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


237 


“Something I never heard of before!’ mut¬ 
tered Sandpiper; then he jumped aside in 
fright. The cut of a broad wing sounded, 
breaking the air, and the next breath King¬ 
fisher came out of the creek bed, and lighted 
beside Marsh Hen’s nest. 

“She was so frightened that she could not 
speak. Kingfisher looked at Sandpiper, whose 
head was dipped—because Kingfishers do not 
talk with Sandpipers—then he saw the food 
on the clean grass, and knew. 

“ 'Tell all Sandpipers that when the Sun 
comes from his bath again Kingfishers will di¬ 
vide hunting grounds with them!’ he said. 

“Sandpiper was glad. It was a great thing 
to feed with the kingfishers. Marsh Hen un¬ 
derstood, and colored under her feathers. But 
soon she was afraid, for he said: 

“ T have brought all my folk together, and 
we will make a stand against Goshawk. I 
will mock Goshawk and decoy him away from 
the marsh. He will rise for me, but I will dart 
here and there and straight down until I tire 
him—then my folk will strike him.’ 

“He went into the creek and brought a 
good-sized fish to her nest, then he hunted side 
by side with Sandpiper. 


238 NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 

“ T will watch while the Sun sleeps and 
while she sleeps/ Sandpiper said, and King¬ 
fisher flew away. 

“All through the long dark, Sandpiper 
watched, and many times thought of the honor 
that had come to him. It was lonely, but 
would he lose Kingfisher’s new friendship for 
just a few winks of sleep? Not once did he see 
Goshawk stir. Sandpiper was glad when the 
light glints shot up from beyond the edge of 
the ocean and colored the clouds; then suddenly 
his little heart bounded in joy and exultation. 
Somewhere, back in the larger tussocks, Lark 
had commenced his prayer song. 

“In the dart of a beam of light, the marsh 
was awake. Yellowlegs, Sandpipers, Marsh 
Hens, Coots, a Heron, all raised their voices; 
but above all sounded the prayer song. The 
Sun looked over the edge of the ocean and sent 
a dazzling path of light across the choppy 
water and on to the bow-post of the wreck. 
Goshawk angrily turned his wicked eyes to¬ 
ward his disturber, but even with the caroling 
of the birds as a challenge, he did not move. 

“Higher rose the Sun and more gloriously 
shone his light; then a cloud stood over his 
face—a cloud so dense that dusk had almost 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


239 


come on the marsh again. Marsh Hen was 
unable to stir. The cloud was Kingfisher’s 
folk, come to protect her. 

“Now she understood the fearlessness of the 
Lark. Brave Kingfisher would have none 
lose the grand sight of the killing of Goshawk 
—or of himself. 

“The cloud passed, and in the downpour of 
light which followed, Marsh Hen saw King¬ 
fisher leave his host and approach the wreck. 
Unable to stay near her nest she went to the 
edge of the marsh, the chicks following obedi¬ 
ently, for she had told them all. Once she 
thought Goshawk had sighted her; but a harsh 
cry sounded in the air, and his fierce eyes were 
turned toward where Kingfisher came to him. 

“She saw Kingfisher dart the length of the 
wreck, back and forth, his wings outstretched, 
and his harsh challenge sounding; but it 
sounded in vain, for Goshawk did not move. 

“Kingfisher seemed bewildered after a time. 
Such a thing as this had never been known be¬ 
fore. A craven Goshawk was never in that 
neighborhood; but this one would not fight or 
leave the wreck. Savagely the smaller bird 
dared the hawk again; then a strange thing 
happened. 


240 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


“Goshawk slowly rose from his couchant 
position, and showed a great taloned foot 
hanging by a thread of skin. His fierce eyes 
were on Kingfisher as he thus apologized for 
his inaction; then he looked down, almost won- 
deringly, on the useless thing which the 
sportsman’s gun had shattered. 

“All over the beach the news spread. In 
the gayest season there was never such a 
crowd as now assembled. Marsh Hen came 
out from her cover, and walked up and down, 
followed by the timid chicks, which crowded 
close to her as she stopped often to look up at 
Goshawk. t 

“‘Kill him! Kill him!’ the cry rang out, 
and Goshawk stretched his neck to listen, mov¬ 
ing his wicked eyes this way and that, as each 
new shout of hatred came to him. Many times 
his sharp, hooked beak opened, and his eyes 
looked up to the sky, as if he was raging over 
his helplessness. Again Kingfisher skimmed 
the length of the wreck and back; then passing 
over Marsh Hen’s head he soon became a 
speck, above the marsh. When he returned, 
he had a fish in his bill, and he placed it on the 
bow-post, before Goshawk. 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


241 


“Such a storm of protest arose from the 
beach! The host moved its blackening 
shadow over the wreck, screaming, but when 
Kingfisher flew into it, and talked, it swerved, 
and was soon so far away that it was no larger 
than a sportsman’s head—then it disappeared 
altogether. Four fishes were torn by the 
hawk’s cruel beak, but the fifth fish remained 
untouched. The hawk raised his dangling 
foot once more, as if in explanation of such 
meekness; then settled to his couchant posi¬ 
tion. 

“On the marsh everything was as before 
Goshawk’s coming, except that Swamp Spar¬ 
row and Marsh Wren had come from homes 
nearer the mainland, and they raised their 
voices also. 

“‘Kill him! Kill him!’ 

“ ‘Kingfisher does not strike the cripple un¬ 
less he must,’ came the answer; then the crowd 
went to the marsh, leaving Goshawk alone. 

“When the dark had come, Kingfisher flew 
to Marsh Hen’s nest. 

“ ‘If I had some fine down,’ he said, looking 
at her soft breast. 

“ ‘Goshawk never forgets!’ she answered 


242 NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 

fearfully. ‘Look that the beak which tore the 
fish does not tear the Kingfisher! You could 
strike him now, safely/ 

“ T could not strike now !’ Kingfisher re¬ 
turned, and she knew that the fight was only 
delayed. The host would return. 

“ ‘Because Goshawk had been near them so 
long the terror of the marsh folk had de¬ 
parted. Every new Sun the crowds assembled 
on the beach, and talked. Even the gentle 
Marsh Wren waited to see the battle to the 
death. 

“Four times more the Sun came from his 
bath and crossed the sky, and Kingfisher was 
still bringing food to the bow-post of the 
wreck. Every dusk he came to Marsh Hen’s 
nest and talked with her and Sandpiper. He 
was very impatient. 

“ ‘Goshawk never speaks,’ he once said; ‘but 
he knows/ 

“Once he placed the fish on the bow-post, 
and, rising high in air, flew inland. When 
he came back he brought bark from a white 
birch tree and a thread of tarred twine from 
a ship’s deck. Marsh Hen gave him more 
down and he flew to the wreck. In the bright 
moonlight Marsh Hen saw them on the bow- 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


243 

post together, and she knew they were binding 
the wound. 

“ ‘There is honor in a Goshawk/ she said, 
‘or he would strike out Kingfisher’s life/ and 
she was sorry that all feathered things could 
not be at peace. 

“Twelve times more the Sun came from his 
bath, and all the marsh folk began to gather 
again. Goshawk had flown twice, but he still 
ate the Kingfisher’s offerings. There was no 
fear on the marsh, for the Kingfisher’s host 
blackened the beach—then came the day of 
battle. 

“Round and round Goshawk skimmed the 
host, shouting the challenge, but he did not stir. 

“‘He is afraid!’ jeered the crowd below. 
‘The great Goshawk is afraid!’ 

“Then there came silence. The wide wings 
of Goshawk were spreading. In an instant a 
path was swept through the host as if through 
a swarm of flies, and the giant bird mounted 
higher in the air than any other of them had 
ever ventured; then, without one flutter of his 
wings, he flew inland. 

“Loudly the marsh folk were singing King¬ 
fisher’s praise, and laughing over the fright of 
the hawk, when there came a noise in the sky 


244 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


like the flight of the Redheads. Such a 
squawking! Goshawk was above them, and 
in his terrible talons was a live turkey buzzard. 

“Dropped on the beach, the ungainly, terri¬ 
fied buzzard staggered unharmed into the 
marsh. As Goshawk again arose to the sky 
there was no sound except the confused chat¬ 
tering of the host as it made its puny chase. 
The Sun was gilding the inland sides of the 
grass blades when he came back, skimming 
silently, and laid on the beach a lamb, which 
would never bleat again; then the great bird 
mounted to the bow-post of the wreck and 
looked over the marsh. 

“Even when the host circled above him 
again, he did not stir; but he heard the voice 
from below—the voice of Marsh Hen, soft and 
pleading: 

“ 'Oh, great Hawk, we are but babblers like 
the turkey buzzard. Let us live, too !’ 

“Then Goshawk spoke. 

“ 'Goshawk never strikes where he has been 
fed, unless he must !’ 

“The marsh folk went back to their nests, 
and all the marsh was still. Goshawk’s wings 
spread again, and he rose, piercing the cloud 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


245 


of the host as if it were a cloud of mist. 
Higher and higher he sailed; then disappeared 
in the blue distance. 

“The gilding on the inland side of the blades 
of grass flowed towards their tops and the 
night dew sought their late resting place. 
The moon arose and sent its wake over the 
choppy blue water. When all were asleep the 
ocean sent in his tide and bore away the dead 
lamb. When the Lark sang the Sun from his 
bath again there was nothing to show that 
Goshawk had come—and gone—except the 
peaceful silence and the bare posts of the old 
wreck.” 

“I guess I’ll not be accepted as entertainer 
any more,” Papa Tom said. 

“I am sure that I have been as much enter¬ 
tained as the children have,” Aunt Laura 
added, and the man who used to be Uncle Jim 
arose and bowed for the compliments. 

“He’s the best in all the world,” Beth said. 

“We’s got to have him for our Uncle Jim,” 
Paul declared; “then he will stay and we’ll 
have next-night stories always.” 

“If everybody here will let me be your uncle 


246 NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


in just the way I want to be, Ell do it. Now, 
go to bed.” 

That’s what the man who used to be Uncle 
Jim, said. 

























TWELFTH NIGHT 


T HE children began to make a canvass 
the next morning. Papa Tom said 
right off that he would let the man 
who wasn’t Uncle Jim be their truly Uncle Jim 
in any way he wanted to be. 

Aunt Laura went over to Mrs. Staples’s 
early, because Mrs. Staples was sick, and 
Auntie Lou ran away and went to school. 

Paul was at the schoolhouse once with Doro¬ 
thy, but Auntie Lou said they mustn’t come in 
because it was “busy day”—so nothing was 
settled when the time for the next-night story 
arrived. 

Dorothy and Paul had many conversations 
during the day, and when they were going to 
the den, Dorothy directed: 

“Now, don’t you wait till number-one rule is 
put to work, but you speak right out.” 

Paul acted determined as he entered the 
room, and Auntie Lou seemed flustered when 
249 


250 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


she saw how he looked. He began as soon as 
he could speak: 

“Aunt Laura, is you goin’ to let him be our 
truly Uncle Jim like he wants to?” 

“I’ll do as the rest do,” was the answer. 

“Is you goin’ to, Auntie Lou?” The ques¬ 
tion came very sharp and clear from such a lit¬ 
tle fellow. 

“She’s got the deciding vote,” Papa Tom 
said. “Hold her to the question at issue, 
Paul.” 

Auntie Lou laughed with the rest, but she 
looked so pretty and happy that Uncle Jim 
seemed to think they were plaguing her, so he 
came over and put his arm about her and hid 
her face on his shoulder. 

Everybody gathered around and laughed 
and talked and seemed very much satisfied, 
and after a time Uncle Jim picked up Paul and 
held him so he could kiss Auntie Lou, and she 
whispered—and Uncle Jim heard it. 

“This is the secret. Uncle Jim won’t go 
away any more.” 

“Does he know it, too?” Paul asked, his eyes 
brimming with delight. “Does he know the 
secret?” 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


251 

“Yes,” Auntie Lou answered. “It was his 
secret, too.” 

Uncle Jim stopped any more talk by saying: 
“The name of this story will be: 


THE HEN THAT RAN AWAY 

Ut T was the best little hen in the flock. 

I The mistress said so, often. It lived 
in the cleanest coop, and every few 
days the farm hand came and dug in the slat 
part of the coop so the hens would have good 
scratching. 

“One day as the best little hen was scratch¬ 
ing and enjoying herself, she happened to 
glance up and there was a great Holstein cow 
gazing through the slats at her. When, some 
time after, the little hen looked up again, and 
saw the same cow still standing there, chew¬ 
ing her cud and staring, she was provoked. 
But when, after another long time, she saw it 
all over again, she was vexed. 


252 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


“ ‘You ought to know me next time you see 
me/ the hen said. 

“ T was thinking/ the cow replied. T don’t 
see how you can stay cooped up there. This 
field isn’t big enough for me, and sometimes I 
run away. Then there is a time. The whole 
family go out to find me and bring me home. 
I’m a very valuable animal/ 

“ T lay an egg every day/ the hen declared. 
T’m valuable, too.’ 

“ T don’t see how you can be contented 
here/ the cow said again. ‘You don’t know 
what’s going on outside your coop. Why, you 
don’t even hear the peddler’s horse tell the 
news. There’s a traveler for you. I’m some¬ 
thing of a traveler myself, but you—well, I 
don’t see how you stand it, always cooped up.’ 

“The best little hen wasn’t so happy and 
contented. It did seem stupid to be always 
penned in, now she thought about it. As the 
afternoon closed, the other hens got to talking 
about her—she acted so queerly. She pecked 
at them when they came near her and wasn’t 
a bit sociable. When John came to close them 
up for the night in the wooden sleeping coop, 
he little thought what was passing in that best 
little hen’s head, and he wasn’t very careful. 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


253 

He left the outer coop door open, and the hen 
ran away. 

“Ran away down the driveway, which led to 
the street, but there she let her spreading 
wings fall and almost stopped in fright. She 
had run into a great looming thing which 
showed very large in the dusk; then some one 
spoke: 

“'What are you doing here? You’re run¬ 
ning away! Well, if I had as easy a time as 
you I wouldn’t run away.’ 

“The best little hen’s fright was over. It 
was the peddler’s cart which was looming up, 
and the peddler’s horse that was talking. 
With a cross, 'Please mind your own business,’ 
the best little hen started her wild flight again. 

“Pretty soon the best little hen stopped. 
She had turned the curve, beyond which she 
had never seen before. There was no further 
need of hurrying. The farmhouse was hidden 
by the hills, and she was free. 

“How fine it seemed to be free! She never 
had been out of a coop before, and here were 
stars coming out, and shining just for her. 
She had always had to go to roost before the 
stars came out. 

“A few fireflies began to wake up and skip 


254 NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 

about, and, to the best little hen’s joy, a grass¬ 
hopper jumped. It was its last jump. The 
best little hen caught it and ate it. 

“That was the beginning of a feast. Grass¬ 
hoppers are very tasty to hens, and that best 
little hen ate so many grasshoppers that she 
had a hard time to walk springy, and with her 
head smartly bobbing back and forth, as a styl¬ 
ish hen should. After a while the moon be¬ 
gan to climb over the hills. It was such a 
funny hour to be out, that the best little hen 
began to feel sleepy. Perhaps it was because 
she had eaten so much and was enjoying her, 
freedom so well. She was sure she was 
never so happy before. She would tell that 
Holstein cow how nice it was to go just where 
one wanted to. She wondered if the family 
would feel troubled when it was known that 
she was gone from the coop. Perhaps they 
would search for her; then she would have 
something to tell the other hens, when, after 
a long, long time she would come back to visit 
them. 

“More grasshoppers. A big, noisy thing 
came along the road, and covered her with 
dust. It was the peddler’s horse and cart. 
The best little hen scolded. She was never 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 255 

so dusty before. But she was too sleepy to 
scold long. She flew upon a wall, and before 
she knew it, she was fast asleep. 

“She was awakened by voices. Two little 
chipmunks were bidding each other ‘good 
night’ just a little way down the wall. 

“ ‘Pretty late,’ said one. ‘Isn’t the moon 
round to-night ? The fox likes the round 
moon, and he’s sure to be out again. Last 
night he crossed the wall right here and he had 
a hen in his mouth.’ 

“The wild ‘cluck’ that best little hen gave 
sent those two chipmunks home in an awful 
fright. They never could explain what had 
happened, but that best little hen flew so long 
and clucked so loud that she was tuckered out 
when she alighted on the ground. 

•“ ‘Oh, I never thought of foxes!’ sobbed 
the best little hen, when she had come out of 
her scare long enough to think. She forgot 
her nice supper of grasshoppers. She had 
commenced to think that perhaps she ought 
to have stayed in the safe coop. 

“She was so sleepy, though, that she simply 
had to find another roosting place. She flew 
to the limb of a tree. She was sure a fox 
could never get her up there. She had hardly 


256 NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 

got quieted down when she started with an¬ 
other frightened ‘cluck/ 

“A weasel was right over her and coming 
toward her. She was a worried hen. Down 
to the ground she flew and ran a long distance, 
then, tired out, she went into an old iron pipe. 
She was so sleepy that she couldn’t run any 
longer. 

“This time she did rest for a little while, 
but she had such awful dreams that she was 
frightened when she awoke. Something was 
crawling over her toes. It was a green snake. 
With another ‘cluck’ she was out of the pipe, 
and hurrying away. 

“She did not dare to try to sleep again. 
She walked on, and the grasshoppers that 
jumped all about her were not eaten. Her 
head was hazy, and she stumbled about. She 
did not look much like the hen that walked 
springy and bobbed her head back and forth, 
stylishly. 

“The daylight began to show and she was 
glad. She was passing a farmhouse, and, see¬ 
ing a hen-coop, she went and stood beside it. 
It was cold and she was very unhappy. By 
and by one of the roosters in the coop opened 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


257 


an eye, and, seeing the hen standing out there, 
it let out a crow. Immediately there was a 
clamor in the coop. All the hens awoke and 
shouted: 

“ ‘Tramp! Tramp!' and that awakened the 
watchdog. 

“The dog came tearing around the house, 
and for the next few minutes that best little 
hen flew as she had never flown before. The 
dog was behind her, jumping to catch her. 
She could not imagine how far she had flown 
before she came to a tree which was high 
enough to keep her safe from the jumping 
dog, but she was glad to rest. She did not 
think any more that it was fine to be free. 
She wished she was home more earnestly than 
she had ever wished anything before. 

“She went to sleep. The dog barked and 
jumped, but could not get at her. Some carts 
went by, but she did not get fully awakened. 
The sun had commenced to warm her when 
some boys went past. They were driving 
cows to pasture. 

“‘What’s the dog got treed?’ one boy 
shouted, and commenced to throw rocks. One 
of the stones nearly hit her; then another 


258 NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 

stone hit the dog. That gave the hen a 
chance to come down out of the tree. The dog 
chased the boys. 

“It was a bedraggled best little hen that 
tried to get a drink at a water trough, but she 
did not drink. A man came out of the house 
and threw a hoe, and the hen flew to the top 
of a corn-barn, where the man lost her. Some 
time later, the hen went to another water 
trough. She was choking with thirst. 

“A horse was drinking, but the hen was too 
dizzy to care. She began to drink. The 
horse raised its head. 

“ ‘Well, you’re a sight!’ the horse exclaimed. 
It was the peddler’s horse. 

“ ‘Oh, I want to go home!’ sniveled the best 
little hen. 

“ ‘Thought you wanted to run away/ the 
horse said. ‘Have you got enough of it?’ 

“ ‘Don’t plague me,’ sobbed the hen. ‘I’m 
so tired—’ 

“ ‘Fly up on top of the cart,’ said the horse, 
who was really a kind horse. ‘There are 
buckets with straw in them. Get into one of 
them and I’ll take you home.’ 

“When the peddler came to his wagon the 
hen was asleep on the top of his cart. The 



“Well, you’re a sight!”— Page 258 











































































































































































































































































































































NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


259 


jouncing did not awaken her, and she slept 
until the horse blew a warning signal with his 
lips; then, looking over the top of the bucket, 
the hen saw her own farmhouse. With a 
thankful 'cluck’ she flew to the ground and 
did not stop running till she was safe in her 
coop. John was digging the ground over so 
the scratching would be easier, and, turning 
around, he exclaimed: 

" 'Well, if here isn’t the little hen! We’ve 
been hunting everywhere for her!’ 

"Wasn’t she a thankful hen? She slept all 
day, and when she awoke she was so glad to 
find the slats of the coop between her and the 
sky. She never told the other hens where she 
had been, but from that day she was a very 
contented hen. All the other fowls thought 
her a very wise hen, because she used to tell 
them that a cow was one thing and a hen an¬ 
other, and each had its own place and ought 
to stay there.” 

Paul sighed contentedly. 

"I’s glad you is our truly uncle,” he mur¬ 
mured. 

"Yes,” said Papa Tom, "it’s quite settled 
now. It’s all over but the ceremony. Jim, 


26 o 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 


if you do what’s right, you’ll see that there 
are three flower girls.” 

Papa Tom seemed to think everything he 
said was funny, because he laughed when he 
said the things. Even Dorothy wasn’t old 
enough to laugh right when her papa spoke. 
Aunt Laura didn’t always understand, either, 
for now she told him: 

“There, there,” but she must have almost 
understood, for she smiled a little. 

Paul couldn’t understand it at all. He 
leaned over to Auntie Lou and his face was 
sober, for here was a secret and he did not 
belong to it. It was a hesitating suggestion 
that he made: 

“Paul’s goin’ to not be a flower girl, ’cause 
he’s a man—” 

“Paul will be a little knight, and he will lead 
the flower girls, and won’t that be pretty?” 
Auntie Lou answered, kissing him. 

“Well, children,” Papa Tom declared, “our 
minds are at rest at last. You are to have, 
at the convenience of your Aunt Louisa, a 
truly Uncle Jim, and the ‘Next-night Stories’ 
seem to have become established as a perpetual 
institution,” and he laughed, of course. 


NEXT-NIGHT STORIES 261 

Now, that’s the way Papa Tom talks half 
the time, and how can children laugh when 
they don’t know what any one’s talking about? 














































































jUL 30 1912 









































































